What Happened in Vegas
by All About Eric
Summary: Eric takes a trip to Vegas, but when Sookie follows him...love, betrayal, sacrifice, and a hint of lemon
1. Chapter 1

Thank you so much to everyone who was so kind to Happy Anniversary, my first effort at fan fiction. I was so encouraged I've dared to submit a chapter for a new idea that's been mulling around in my head for a while. It's a lot darker than Happy Anniversary, but I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

It was just sunset as my plane came in to land at Las Vegas. The sky was streaked with purple clouds and the sun itself looked way bigger than usual as it touched the horizon, glowing blood-red. That was appropriate, as I was here to pay a visit to Eric Northman, my vampire…my vampire what? boyfriend? lover? pledged partner? bonded one? husband? I thought about that for a few minutes, to take my mind off the descent. I wasn't that big on flying. Boyfriend? To use his own phrase, he was _so_ not a boy, being over a thousand years old. He had originally been a Viking, and that's exactly what he looked like, with long golden hair and ice-blue eyes. He was also six-foot-four, totally buff and handsome enough to be a romance cover model. In fact, he had posed as Mr January in the nude vampire calendar that had been such a money-spinner for Fangtasia, the bar he owned in Shreveport. That calendar still hung on my wall, but somehow I'd never got past January. This last month while he'd been away, it had been my only comfort. Boyfriend? Perhaps not.

Pledged one or husband? yeah, ok, even though he had tricked/manipulated me into both statuses more than a year ago. The pledging thing was definitely important in the vampire community; it protected me from interference by other parties who might like – scratch that, who would _definitely_ like, to take advantage of my telepathic talents if Eric had not had the sense to mark his territory with the ceremonial knife, even though I hadn't known what he was doing. I had been so mad with him at the time, but events had proved him right. By vampire law, _no-one, _not even the king, could touch me without Eric's prior consent. According to him this made us married under vampire law, so husband might not be completely inappropriate, either, although I had so far resisted any suggestion that I was his wife, and had refused to take his name or give up my job and move in with him permanently, which is what he really wanted.

The pledging had its uses, but it was the bond that was really important to me. Since we had exchanged blood more than three times, there was an extraordinary connection between us; I could usually sense his location and emotions and he could pick up on mine. This could get complicated, as I couldn't always tell if what I was feeling was me or him, but I had grown accustomed to having him there in my head; in the background, but definitely there. At least I had some escape if I wanted it, as I couldn't feel him during the day, when he rested. I don't know how it was for him, but the impression I got was that he didn't want to escape it; he always said he loved feeling that connected to me. The bond had grown much fainter recently, partly because we hadn't renewed it with a blood exchange in quite a while and partly because he'd been in Vegas at the court of King Felipe for the last month, and distance didn't help any. He was engaged on business connected with his job; he was sheriff of Area Five, in the vampire kingdom of Louisiana, which had recently been taken over in a bloody and violent coup by the king of Nevada when Louisiana's queen had been seriously injured in an explosion at a vampire summit in Rhodes.

Eric had been the only Louisiana sheriff to survive the coup, possibly because he was a natural survivor; you didn't get to be a thousand years old without learning a trick or two. However, he had been under a lot of pressure recently from Victor Madden, the new king's agent for the whole of Louisiana. Victor wanted Eric's area for himself, as it was the most profitable in the state, and he had been working very hard to try and discredit Eric with the king. So far Eric had managed to combat his manoeuvrings successfully, but Victor had recently made an attempt on my life, which I had been lucky to survive, and that had caused Eric to decide to go and see Felipe at his headquarters in Vegas and deal with the matter once and for all. He had warned me that there would be little opportunity for him to contact me, as he expected to be in meetings pretty much all night every night and he could not afford to be distracted in what was definitely a fight for his area and possibly for his life, but he had called my mobile a couple of times, and had sent flowers twice and heart-shaped balloons once and a fabulous diamond bracelet two weeks ago, each with loving messages. I was wearing the bracelet now, as the lights of the runway drew closer and we touched down with a gentle bounce. So I was definitely both pledged and bonded, but that didn't define our relationship, somehow.

It had been a real surprise to get a text from him just this morning, asking me to come and join him in Vegas, complete with details of the flight and check-in time. Did I say _asking _me? Naturally, I meant _telling _me. Eric was the most autocratic man I had ever met. Large and in charge, that was him, and I think I was the only person who ever contradicted him. His subordinates and staff all went in fear of him (for very good reason), but I questioned his orders for the good of his soul(assuming he had one; the religious leaders were still arguing about that). It wasn't healthy for anyone to live without someone to tell them when they're being a complete and total dick, excuse my French. Still, I hadn't seen him for way too long, and I had no intention of cutting off my nose to spite my face, so I sent back an enthusiastic yes, called my boss at the bar for some time off, and had just packed a couple of bags when my doorbell rang and there was a chauffeured limousine waiting to take me to the airport in style. As usual Eric had arranged everything down to the last detail, and I was whisked through check-in with minimum delay and escorted to the most luxurious seat on the plane.

As the plane taxied to the terminal, I swiftly reviewed my list. The only one left was lover. I couldn't argue with that one. Eric was a truly great lover; well, he'd had a thousand years to practise, and from what I could tell he hadn't wasted a second. He was considerate, passionate, tender, masterful, generous and imaginative and his stamina was legendary. The things he did to me in bed (and elsewhere) were little short of miraculous, and I felt a surge of lust just thinking of the reunion we were going to have very shortly, but he was so much more than just a lover; he was my friend and my protector, my companion and my shoulder to cry on. He was the guy I laughed with and fought with and watched old movies with. So, was he my vampire lover, boyfriend, pledged one, bonded one, husband, or a mixture of all of these? Perhaps it would be simplest just to say Eric was my vampire, and leave it at that. He certainly thought of me (and referred to me!) as his human.

The seatbelt light went off and I gathered my belongings carefully, before making my way to the exit and following the signs towards the concourse. I was not in the least surprised to see a sign neatly labelled Stackhouse being held up by a smart uniformed Were. However, I'd been caught that way before, so I checked his mind out carefully. Although I find it harder to read Were minds than humans, I can often get a sense of what they're thinking. In his case there was no aggression, malice or subterfuge (a good Word of the Day) going on, so I identified myself and he smiled and took my luggage for me. He led me out of the terminal to another huge grey limousine and soon we were travelling smoothly through the early evening dusk, heading out of town and into the desert, towards King Felipe's principal residence.

It was only about half an hour, and when we got there, all you could see from the road was a high white wall, with some big metal gates. The chauffeur stopped and sounded his horn, and a smaller gate set in the large one opened and a uniformed guard came over to the car. He inspected the driver's ID carefully, and shone a torch into the back where I was sitting. I smiled politely, and he touched his cap. Like the chauffeur, he was a Were, as seemed traditional with vampires. They liked to use Weres for security as they were supernatural, tough, well-trained, disciplined, and they were awake during the day; a big plus for beings who were vulnerable in daylight hours. Of course, they had to rely on other help at full moon, when all the Weres took off and did their own thing (you don't want to know!) but that was only a small drawback .

The guard spoke into his radio and the huge gates opened slowly. As we drove in, there was a long gravel drive, with floodlit gardens stretching off to the left and right. I was amazed at that amount of green in the middle of the desert; I figured there had to be some serious money going into the irrigation systems here.

We rounded a bend and there was the house. House? Mansion, more like. It was only one story high, but it seemed to stretch in both directions as far as I could see. It was all in floodlit white stucco, and had a sort of Hispanic look, with colonnades and beautiful graceful arches all along the front. The drive widened out and the car swept round a fountain and drew up at the pillared portico in the centre of the building. The driver came round and opened my door, and I hurried up the three shallow steps to the great wooden doors, one of which was open. I could hardly contain myself, knowing I would be seeing Eric in a very few minutes. I checked the bond, hoping to at least pick up an echo of my striking Viking, but there was nothing registering. I guessed it must have been more depleted than I thought; Still, we'd have fun renewing it tonight, for sure.

Inside I found myself in a black-and-white tiled lobby, filled with more beautiful tropical plants. There was a reception desk and a man in uniform waiting to take my luggage from the chauffeur who had followed me in. This felt more like a hotel than a private residence, but I remembered that Felipe wasn't just a private individual; he was a vampire king, and he lived accordingly.

I looked around for Eric, but the only other person there was a dapper-looking vampire of medium size in a beautifully tailored suit, sitting reading a newspaper. He looked up as we entered, put the paper down and came to meet me, smiling widely. Oh great. Victor Madden. I might have known he'd be here somewhere, sliming round the king and trying to catch Eric out. We detested each other, but both hid it behind insincere smiles and scrupulous good manners. I hated him for what he was trying to do to Eric, and he hated me…why? I wasn't sure, but I suspected it was because he thought I was an asset that should be controlled by himself or the King, not Eric. We both knew he'd tried to have me killed, and we both pretended we didn't know.

My smile was as wide as his, and just as genuine, as we shook hands. This in itself was unusual in vampire culture – they usually just nodded at each other, but Victor was always trying to cop a feel one way or another. Ick. I resisted the temptation to wipe my hand on my skirt, and asked where Eric was. He switched his smile off and said, "Alas, dear lady, regrettably Mr Northman has been detained. I am told he will be some time yet, but meanwhile perhaps you would care to freshen up a little in your room, and then we will see what we can do to entertain you until your happy re-union." His smile was back in place, and although I wasn't pleased I didn't see what I could do, so I thanked him and he escorted me to one of the many doors leading out of the lobby, followed by the bellhop. It was opened with a keycard and once through, we were in a long corridor leading back into the depths of the building. Again, this felt like a hotel, with champagne-coloured carpets and watercolour prints on the walls. We stopped and he opened the door to a charming bedroom decorated in shades of blue and cream, overlooking the floodlit gardens. He assured himself that I had everything I needed, left me the keycard and then oiled his way out, saying he would return in half an hour.

I checked out the facilities. The room had an ensuite bathroom, which included fresh towels and even bathroom tissue (not using such things themselves, vampires were occasionally forgetful about stocking up). I quickly unpacked and changed into a smart black suit with black stockings and three-inch stilettos; We were in a royal residence, and I didn't want to let Eric down. I accessorised with a red brooch, earrings and necklace, and I put up my hair in a sophisticated style with a sparkling clip, to match Eric's beautiful bracelet, and then I couldn't resist sending a quick text to Eric just to let him know I had arrived. I soon had one back saying See You Soon. Go With Victor. This surprised me, but if I had learned one thing it was to trust Eric in matters of vampire politics, so I sat down to wait for Captain Slimeball.

It wasn't long before Victor knocked on my door. I opened it and he was standing there smirking, with a couple of Weres in tow. I knew he didn't like to move around without an escort of some sort, presumably to enhance his feelings of self-importance, so I didn't comment.

"Miss Stackhouse, you look especially lovely tonight."

"Why thank you Mr Madden." I could be insincerely charming too when the occasion arose. "Is Eric available yet?"

"He has asked me to help you occupy your time, perhaps with a little tour of our facilities here, until he is free. Would that be agreeable to you?"

Well, it was better than sitting in my room staring at the wall (no TV – vamps weren't that big on it), so I said that would be fine, and slipped my keycard into my pocket before accompanying him. He started by showing me the ground floor. He explained that, like many large vampire residences, the majority of the rooms were underground, to preclude all possibility of sunlight entering. Those above ground were primarily for human visitors or employees.

It seemed very busy, with a great many people coming and going carrying piles of paper and working at computer terminals. I commented on this and he said, "You've arrived at a very interesting time. This is our Assizes." I must have looked puzzled, because he elaborated. "Twice a year His Majesty holds a vampire court, where any of his subjects can bring cases for judgment. It sometimes happens that a vampire commits an offence against another which is not punishable in human law, and when this happens one of our own judges hears the case. If there is an appeal, the king himself arbitrates. He is the final authority in our community, and all vampires are bound to accept his decisions. We also handle any major crimes. Minor infractions are dealt with locally, usually by area sheriffs such as our good Mr Northman, but sometimes an offence is too serious for this, and then the king deals with it personally. This has been a particularly interesting session, as we have had a treason trial – most unusual. The court is currently sitting, and we can take a quick look in if you wish. It would be interesting to know how it compares with a human court of law."

I replied politely, "I don't think I could help you there, Mr Madden, I've never been in a human court of law, but I'd be interested to see your legal system in action." He smiled and guided me to a bank of elevators, his Weres following.

We descended four levels and emerged into a brightly lit corridor lined with blond wood and with a thick grey carpet. There were a lot of doors, and it was much quieter than upstairs, even though there were still a great many people about. Mostly vamps, of course, but they're not a chatty race, and they move very silently. Even Victor spoke with a hushed voice and the two Weres were practically on tiptoe. He silently opened a door labelled Court 6, a finger to his lips, and we slid inside. We were at the back of a viewing gallery which looked down into the well of a court room. It looked pretty much like all the TV court cases I had ever seen, except that where our courts had a big American flag, here there was a huge Ankh symbol behind the judges' chairs. Again it was all panelled in wood, and was very stuffy. Of course, that's not a problem for vamps, who don't need to breathe. We stayed for a few minutes, but I couldn't make much sense of what was going on. Two lawyers appeared to be arguing about a precedent of some sort, and the judge looked heartily bored. Soon Victor tapped my sleeve and we left as quietly as we had come. He shut the door silently and then looked at me to see what I had thought. I smiled and said, "very interesting." He seemed pleased.

We went up to level three. This seemed to be mostly conference halls and committee rooms – the complex was vast, but Victor explained that Felipe managed all three of his kingdoms from this site, so really it was like the government building for a small country. I peeked through the glass viewing panels into a few of the conference rooms to see if I could spot Eric, but no joy. The state rooms and the king's own private quarters were on level five, as deep as you could go. They were not available for inspection.

Then floor two which was all offices and admin, largely staffed by vampire lawyers and administrators and a few humans fetching and carrying and doing the photocopying. Yawn. The fittings and fixtures seemed very much what you'd see in offices everywhere, but I did notice all the plants down here were fake. Of course, no sunlight.

Finally floor one, which was just below the ground level. The elevator gave onto a short corridor and there were a number of doors labelled Security, Armoury, Weapons Training, and that sort of thing. We stopped for a few minutes in a shooting gallery and watched uniformed trainee guards learning to handle weaponry safely. Their shooting was scarily accurate. Then we reached a solid metal door with an armed Were guard outside it. It was labelled Custody Suite and Victor showed his pass to the guard before the door was unlocked and we were admitted. Inside we stepped onto a long metal catwalk above two rows of cells, running the length of a huge high-ceilinged room. They had solid floors and walls, but were roofed in just below the walkway with a strange tinted glass of some sort.

"This is our detention area," Victor said. "On the right are those awaiting trial, and on the left those who have been convicted. They are here for one of four reasons; either they're awaiting sentence, or they're appealing their sentence, or they are serving their sentence if it's a custodial one, or they've been sentenced but it hasn't been executed yet."

"Executed?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"No, no, no," he hastened to reassure me. "Not that sort of execution – we are not barbarians, Miss Stackhouse; it means the sentence, whatever it may be, has not yet been implemented, it doesn't mean executing them!"

I peered down at the two different rows of cells. Those for vampires awaiting trial looked reasonable; a basic lidless coffin on a stand, a table, a couple of chairs. I could see books and CDs in some of the cells. Not all of them were occupied. "The Assizes are drawing to a close," explained Victor when I mentioned this. "Most cases have already been heard, and the defendants either released or transferred to the condemned row. A great many sentences are non-custodial; fines, that sort of thing." He gestured at one of the occupied cells. A middle-aged female vampire was seated at the table reading. She didn't look up as we paused right above her. "One-way glass," said Victor, indicating the transparent ceiling. We can see her but she can't see us. And, of course, the cells are completely soundproof. Very necessary when dealing with vampires' sharp ears." He checked a card attached to the catwalk railing, which seemed to have the case details of the inmate below. "She is accused of not adequately controlling her human. Apparently, he spoke to a reporter about the resting-places of a number of very important vampires who belonged to her nest. For security reasons, that sort of information is usually highly confidential, and those concerned had to re-locate. It was most inconvenient and unfortunate. Her trial comes on tomorrow."

The next cell contained a vampire who had turned a woman but had then neglected to provide her with the support and guidance that was so necessary to a new vampire, which resulted in her death at the hands of an angry farmer when he caught her about to drain his baby son.

Then Victor passed to the other side of the catwalk, to the cells for those who had been convicted. They were very different from those on the right. There was no coffin or other furniture except for a table, on which was spread a variety of unpleasant-looking implements. Weirdly, the walls were reflective. There was a large white platform in the centre of each cell, raised about a foot off the floor and on the platforms were the prisoners, one to a cell. They were confined in a variety of different ways; one was chained to an upright post, one was dangling by his wrists from a sort of gallows, another was spread-eagled on his front, with his wrists and ankles chained to the four corners of the platform. The bonds appeared to be made of leather in each case, but Victor told me that the various chains and shackles were all made from silver sheathed in leather, which kept the prisoner weak and unable to break free, but prevented the silver from burning the bare skin. From what I could see they were all naked, they had all had their heads shaved (for hygiene reasons, Victor explained) and they all had a variety of bruises and contusions. As they were vamps, they all healed, but some of the injuries must have been pretty severe as several of them had quite deep scars.

There was a guard in each cell, and as I watched I saw one check his watch and then walk over to the table in the corner and choose what appeared to be a thick black stick about two feet long. He went over to his prisoner, the one hanging from the gallows, and touched the end of the stick to a place no-one should be touching without either a medical degree or a wedding ring. There was no sound, but the prisoner convulsed in his chains, his mouth wide open as if screaming. The guard then returned the stick to the table, made a mark on a clipboard and went back to his position by the door. I stared in horror, and then turned to Victor, who was watching impassively.

"Every convict is subject to an educative regime, tailored to their specific offence," he said. "Some elements are common to all regimes; sleep deprivation, low-level diet, that sort of thing, but other elements are very specific." He glanced at the card. This man, for example, is on Rehabilitation Program Level 1, the least strict. Apparently he was convicted of sexually assaulting another vampire's human, so his rehabilitation program includes a cattle-prod used in the manner you have just seen every hour, day and night for the term of his sentence. Our program goes all the way up to Level 8, which involves some very special attention indeed. The guards work their way through a carefully planned 24-hour timetable, and it is a very successful system. We have _very_ few recidivists." He smiled.

"Recidivists?" I wasn't above asking if I didn't understand something.

"Repeat offenders," he explained. "Most people do not wish to return here."

I'll bet they don't.

"But what about those who are appealing against their convictions? You might be torturing an innocent person."

"I think you may have misunderstood me, Miss Stackhouse. The appeals are against their sentence, not their conviction. There is no appeal once convicted. However, some prisoners hope that their sentences may be cut or commuted if his majesty sees fit."

Victor continued to stroll along the catwalk, but I felt I had seen enough. What the hell sort of place were they running here? All this talk of "rehabilitation" and "educative regimes" and it was a straight-forward torture-chamber! I asked why the walls were reflective, and he said, "They are sprayed with chrome; even the one-way glass has a thin coating. This has two benefits; firstly, we discovered years ago that chrome has the strange effect of damping down blood-bonds, or even suppressing them altogether. Many of the inmates are blood-bonded to humans." He sighed theatrically. "in fact, this is often the cause of their being here in the first place. So many of these offences are the result of too-close association with humans. So, while they are here we do our best to detach them from any corrupting influences. Also, it would not be right for some to receive comfort and companionship through their bond and others who are not bonded to have nothing, therefore in the interests of fairness they are all isolated equally. The second benefit is that we find that being able to watch their own punishment increases its effectiveness enormously." He smiled proudly. I felt sick. The thought of these prisoners being forced to watch their own suffering was horrible.

"Mr Madden, I really think it's about time I went back to my room. Eric may be finished with his meeting by now."

He smiled. "I don't think so, my dear, I left strict instructions that I was to be called when Mr Northman was available. However, I'm sure you will see him before long. Meanwhile, let's just take a quick look in on our traitor. You remember I mentioned the treason trial? He's just here." He stopped above the last cell in the row and I joined him reluctantly and looked down.

This guy was a real mess. He was kneeling in the centre of his platform and was wearing a heavy-looking collar of the standard leather-covered silver. Four thick rods ran from rings on the collar to the corners of the platform, holding him in place, unable to either stand up or lie down. He also wore sturdy manacles and leg-irons; they were clearly taking no chances with this dude. His shaved head was bowed and every inch of his body that I could see was covered in blood and whip-marks, burns, scars and half-healed festering cuts, all reflected a hundred times over in the mirrored walls. I looked away hurriedly.

Victor sighed. "He has been convicted of a very serious offence, I'm afraid. Papers were found in his room indicating that he was engaged in treasonous correspondence with the King of Mississippi, in direct violation of his oath to King Felipe. He will be sentenced tomorrow night; His majesty prides himself on not making hasty decisions. Meanwhile, his regime is Level 8, a particularly strict one; he has not slept and has hardly eaten for two weeks. Look there."

There were two guards for this guy, and both of them were picking up multi-stranded whips from the table. The strands gleamed dully; they were made of thin silver chains. They stepped behind the prisoner, looked at each other and then one swung the whip and struck him full across his naked back with all his strength, followed immediately by the other guard. The effect on the kneeling vampire was appalling. It seemed that every muscle and sinew in his body stood out as his back arched and his head jerked back, while his mouth opened in a cry of agony. I could see his fangs had been torn out, leaving bloody holes. His eyes were screwed tight shut in pain, or at least one of them was. The other one had a long diagonal scar running across it from the centre of his forehead down across the lid, which was swollen shut, and onto the cheek. The guards laughed and struck him four more times each, his body twisting beneath the blows. I saw wisps of smoke rising from his back where the silver had done its work.

I started to turn away, sickened, but my brooch clasp must have been slightly loose because at that moment it came undone and fell from my jacket lapel. I tried to catch it but it slipped from my fingers and landed on the catwalk railing, bounced off and fell with a small clatter onto the glass ceiling of the cell below. Both the guards and the prisoner looked up at the unexpected sound. The prisoner's good eye was open and although I knew he couldn't see me, from where I stood he looked like he was staring straight at me. Instantly I lost all interest in the brooch and hung over the railing, gripping it with every ounce of strength I had. It was the only thing stopping me from fainting there and then, because the eye looking back at me from the bloody, bruised face below was a startling ice-blue. It was Eric.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next thing I knew I was being dragged off Victor by the two Weres, who had not been quick enough to prevent me marking his face with my nails. He had a nice red slash down one cheek, which of course faded as I watched, but the shock in his eyes told me I had got a good one home. I was spitting and kicking and cursing and fighting like a wildcat to get at the person who I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, had framed my lover. Of course, the Weres prevented me from reaching him but I had the satisfaction of seeing him recoil as I lashed out with my stiletto and just missed carving him a new navel. Then, just as suddenly as it came, the wave of burning homicidal rage receded, and left in its place a cold fury, combined with an icy determination to destroy the smug little shit in front of me if it was the last thing I did.

I stopped struggling and stood still, panting and trembling. I stared unblinkingly at Victor's face, fixing his image in my mind and pasting it into my mental scrapbook of people I was going to send to hell.

"Miss Stackhouse, will you please be reasonable? I realise what a shock this must be for you, but there is much that we have to discuss."

From inside my cocoon of ice, I answered in a calm, if somewhat breathless voice, "very well Mr Madden. What do you wish to discuss with me?"

"Well," He gestured towards the lighted cell where the guards were replacing the bloodstained whips on the table and Eric's head had fallen forward again. Of course, he wasn't aware of the scene on the catwalk. "I would like to help you resolve this unfortunate situation, if I possibly can." Unfortunate situation! A hundred furious, sarcastic answers rose to my lips, and I thrust them all down. This was way too serious for indulging myself with smart-alec remarks; every brain-cell and faculty I had needed to be focussed on securing Eric's release.

"First, I'm leaving. I can't possibly discuss business here." I looked up at the Weres who were still holding my elbows. "Do you mind?" I said coldly. They looked at Victor who nodded and they released me. I straightened my clothes, and patted my hair back into place. Then I looked at one of them and said, "My brooch, please." I spoke with such authority that he swung himself over the railing and reached down to retrieve the small red circlet from the glass below us. He could just reach it and he hauled himself back up and handed it to me. I took it with a curt word of thanks and re-pinned it on my jacket. While my head was bent over the tiny fastening my eyes were seeking out Eric in his cell. Suddenly I stiffened. Oh no. One guard was standing behind him, forcing his head up, while the other one was undoing the zip on his pants, grinning sadistically. I couldn't bear to watch whatever was going to happen next down there, so I swiftly swung round to face Victor again, who by the look on his face didn't have a clue what was going to happen next up here. Good. I wanted to keep him on the hop.

"Right," I said. Let's get out of here." I turned and began to stride back towards the entrance, my heels clicking authoritatively on the metal beneath my feet. Victor and the two bodyguards trailed after me as I reached the door and banged on it imperatively. The Were outside opened the door and I marched straight out into the hall before turning towards the elevator doors. I said over my shoulder, "I am going back to my room. You may join me there in thirty minutes."

He hurried to catch me up and tried to re-capture the initiative.

"Miss Stackhouse, I must warn you that this is a very serious matter. You would do well to think carefully before…" his voice trailed away as I turned swiftly to face him.

"Mr Madden, please don't waste my time. I know perfectly well that you have done this to Eric so that you can exert some sort of leverage over me. You have a proposal to put to me? I repeat. You may come to my room in thirty minutes." The elevator door opened and I stepped inside. He began to follow me into the empty elevator but I stepped forward, filling the entrance. "Full up," I snarled, and he jumped back. The door closed and I rode up the one short flight to the ground level.

I held myself together while I found my room. Then I locked myself in and threw myself on the bed and let the tears come. My mind filled with the image of my Eric on his knees, wounded, chained, filthy, at the mercy of brutal guards. It was strange but I realised that what was hurting me almost more than anything was the shocking sight of his shaved head. His glorious mane of golden hair was so much a part of him that he almost wasn't Eric without it. No wonder I hadn't recognised him at first.

As I wept, I could feel the new, icy Sookie watching me. I could hear her saying, "you've got ten minutes to get this out of your system, girl, then you will _get smart."_ I stumbled to the bathroom and found some tissues to mop my face. Then I sat on the stool in front of the mirror and looked at myself. First things first, repair my make-up. I was _not_ going to let that son-of-a-bitch see that I had been crying. I set to work with cleanser, wiping away the mascara and eyeliner that had run, then I applied fresh foundation, blusher and lip-gloss and re-did my eyes. I could hear Eric's voice laughingly referring to my war paint. My hand trembled, but then I had it under control. No sentiment! No whining! Above all, no self-pity! This is not about you, girl, this is about Eric. You _will_ do whatever it takes to save him. I banished the image of him in that cell, naked under the torturers' whips; if I thought about it I would break down and that would be of no use to him.

As I sat on that stool and stared into the mirror, I started to gather my resources together. I thought of my Gran. She had always said that any woman is strong enough to do whatever she has to do. I held that thought, and rummaged in my soul for every last bit of courage, determination, strength and cunning that I had, and I built it all into a new personality. Then I thought. Hard. In ten minutes, I had formulated my strategy, in fifteen I was making phone-calls and in twenty minutes I unlocked the door, ready for Victor Madden.

When he knocked I called out "Come!" just as my old head teacher used to in Junior High. It was the most offensive way I could think of to admit him. He opened the door and I stared at him as insultingly as I possibly could. He moved to enter and I held up my hand. "You can leave Laurel and Hardy outside." I gestured to his Were guards. He hesitated, but eventually he came in alone and closed the door, looking round for somewhere to sit. I smiled inwardly. I was seated in the only chair in the room. I had moved the other seats into the bathroom, so he was forced to stand in front of me. I inspected him in silence while I counted to ten, and then I said, "well?" That put the ball very firmly in his court, while putting him equally firmly in his place.

"Miss Stackhouse, I want to assure you that I am as distressed as you about this entire affair…" I cut him off with a gesture.

"Firstly, Mr Madden, you will address me by my married name; Secondly, I am not remotely interested in your _distress_. Now cut to the chase."

I had completely wrong-footed him. He had thought he would find a distraught little human who could be easily cowed. He did not know the Stackhouse women. He tried to stare me down, using that peculiar vampire gaze, which can be so unnerving when you know yourself to be the sole focus of their attention, but I had been stared at by better vampires than him and I held his gaze. He paused briefly, gathering the threads of his argument, and then began again.

"I am sure you realise the difficult position that Mr Northman is in, Miss Stackhouse…" I raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon. Mrs Northman. As I said, your, er, husband has been found guilty of treason, and he will be sentenced tomorrow. The penalty will undoubtedly be _final death_." He stressed the last two words, hoping they would get through to me. He didn't know I had disconnected my heart for the time being. My brain, however, was functioning like a Ferrari and that is what I was relying on.

"However, his majesty might be persuaded to remit the death sentence under certain circumstances." He paused expectantly, but I remained silent. He coughed, slightly nervously, and continued. "We are all aware of your remarkable abilities as a telepath, and I am sure you can imagine how very useful such a skill could be to the king. If you would be willing to use your talents in his service, I am sure I could persuade him to exercise leniency in the case of Mr Northman."

I again waited for ten seconds before I answered him.

"I am pledged to Mr Northman. You will have to address your request to him." He looked cunning for a moment. He had expected something of this kind.

"Ah, but pledges can be set aside." Damn, I hadn't known that. I raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.

"Did Mr Northman not mention this to you? Very understandable, I'm sure." His voice was now silky. I didn't respond. I was finding silence my most useful weapon. Eric had taught me this trick. He had explained that there were some people who were naturally uncomfortable with silence, and felt a need to fill the gaps with their own voice. Victor was one of these. Eric said that he often learned things to his advantage that way, so I waited, and sure enough Victor gave me the information without my having to ask for it.

"A pledge can be dissolved by the consent of both partners," he said. "If Mr Northman agrees, then you would be free to seek employment wherever you chose without reference to him. We could offer you an extremely attractive package, Mrs Northman, with a great many benefits; you would not regret it."

Could you believe this guy? One minute he was talking about executing my bonded and the next he wanted to discuss health insurance and pension rights?

"What if I refuse _my_ consent to dissolving the pledge?"

"Then, regrettably, justice will take its course, and tomorrow's sunset will be Mr Northman's last. Of course, that is only figuratively speaking. In fact, Mr Northman will live for many days and nights before his final death. And he will desire it long before he is granted it. His majesty is particularly adept at devising imaginative methods of putting someone to death. Indeed, I believe he served with some distinction in the Spanish Inquisition. And of course, as the wife of a traitor, you would be required by law to watch the execution. _All of it._ As I recall, the king's last victim survived for over six months." His tone was gloatingly unpleasant, and I nearly shuddered, but I forced my feelings to one side. I would not permit him to see any weakness.

"And if I agree to work for the king, what will happen to my husband?"

"He will be banished."

"From Louisiana?"

"From America. He will be free to take up his abode in any country other than the USA. His majesty will even provide him with a one-way plane ticket to any destination of his choosing. He would of course be forbidden to have any contact with any of his former colleagues, associates, employees, friends, partners, acquaintances or progeny, on pain of final death for all involved."

So I would never see my love again. He would live, but without me. Don't think about it, Sookie.

"What about Area Five?"

"His majesty would appoint a new sheriff." No prizes for guessing who _that_ would turn out to be.

"And Fangtasia and Mr Northman's other business interests?"

"All Mr Northman's property would revert to the king, to be disposed of as he sees fit."

My mind worked fast. "Would all that be included in the sentence the king is due to pass tomorrow night?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Very well. Do you have anything more to say?"

"I would like to hear your answer Miss…Mrs Northman." I took a deep breath. This is where my fight-back began.

"Firstly, before I even begin to consider your proposal there are a few things _I_ want." He raised an eyebrow. He thought he had me over a barrel. We would see.

"Such as?"

"A meal, to begin with. I'm starving. I assume you do have human food in this place?"

Victor was startled at my sudden change in direction. He had been braced to resist all kinds of hysterical demands, but had not expected something on a purely human level. Thanks again, Eric. My lover was a martial arts expert, and had explained to me the principle of using your opponent's own momentum against him by a sudden lack of resistance in one area while applying pressure elsewhere. According to him, this applied in negotiation as much as in physical fighting, and it looked like he was right.

Victor blinked. "Er…I believe so."

I kept up the pressure. "Right. What have you got?"

"I don't know…"

"Then find out. I can't make decisions on an empty stomach. Is there a menu of some sort? What do your human employees do? Is there a kitchen somewhere on this floor? Or a staff canteen? What time does it close? is it a self-service one? What about coffee? I need caffeine." I bombarded him with apparently trivial questions, keeping him on the back foot, never giving him a chance to stop and think. Then I shifted my ground.

"Secondly, I want complete, guaranteed, freedom of movement in this place. You can send a Were with me if you really want to, but I will not tolerate being confined in any way while I consider your offer. Thirdly, my lawyer is currently in the building and will be with me very shortly. (Hah! that surprised him). I expect you to provide me with a suitable conference room in which to consult with him. Fourthly, I get to visit Eric, alone, tonight, with no surveillance, and fifthly his "educative regime" stops immediately. Non-negotiable. If you can't do these simple things, then I will not even consider your proposal, and you can get out right now." I stared him straight in the eye. See how that will go down with the king, you little bastard. If you don't agree, you'll have to tell him you failed at the first hurdle, and he'll kick your self-satisfied butt from here to the moon.

His mouth fell open under the onslaught of my words, and he tried to pull himself together. His voice became menacing in tone and he showed a little fang.

"Mrs Northman, I don't think you realise that you are in no position to make demands."

My own voice grew menacing to match his.

"Mr Madden, I don't think _you_ realise that if my husband is executed, I would regrettably become so deranged with grief that my telepathy would be completely unreliable, and consequently of no use whatsoever to the king."

"What?" That had shaken him.

"Oh yes," I smiled. "It's happened to me in the past. When my grandmother was murdered it was _months_ before I could guarantee reliability in my readings. I might well get nine out of ten right, but you would have no way of knowing which was the wrong one. And it might lead to some very_…expensive …_mistakes_._" There was no doubting the meaning behind my words. I could really screw the king over. If he couldn't rely on my readings, I was useless to him. I applied a little more pressure. "and of course, when I did recover my abilities, I would never be able to stay in Louisiana with all its sad memories. I'd have to relocate to, say…Mississippi? I have acquaintances there, and I'm sure I'd have no difficulty finding work." Victor knew I was referring to Russell Edgington, a rival vampire king. And he also knew that if Russell obtained my services, Felipe would never forgive him. He swallowed convulsively.

"Ah." He wasn't quite sure what to say now. I waited for him to make an excuse and leave, so that he would have a chance to think about my terms. "I'll have to go and consult with…I'll arrange to have some food sent in straight away." He fumbled for the door handle and I smiled sweetly. "Thank you so much, Mr Madden." Then he was gone, and my smile was no longer so sweet.

I checked my watch. Mr Cataliades, the demon lawyer, had recently opened an office in Vegas, and when I had called it earlier, I had really lucked out. They told me he was already in the palace, attending a hearing (of course, the Assizes! Where else would the best Supe lawyer in the country be right now?). They gave me his cellphone number, and he had been delighted to hear from me and had promised to be with me the instant his current case wrapped up. That was such a relief. He had heard about Eric, but vampire confidentiality rules were the strictest around, and there was no way he would have been allowed to call me. Now that I had called _him_ and engaged his services for myself and Eric, that was a different matter.

I decided a little pre-emptive strike might not be a bad idea, so I strolled along to the reception area and sat on one of the little benches that were scattered around among the potted plants. I picked up a newspaper and glanced through it, but I wasn't really concentrating on it. I was focussing on the young man at the desk. His mind was wide open, and contained some very interesting information. It didn't take me long to learn that he hated this job, he was only doing it because it helped pay his tuition fees at college, and he really hated the way the vampires and Weres treated him as though he was something they'd trodden in. He wasn't very old, and wasn't very sure of himself, and like a lot of young guys all he really wanted was to be treated as though he mattered. Just to be noticed. I could do that.

I walked over to his desk turning on the Southern charm. I checked his name tag and said,

"Hi Paul. How are you all doing? Warm night, isn't it?"

"Good evening, ma'am," he stammered slightly. "Can I help you?"

"Could you tell me where I could get some food around here, please?"

"Certainly, ma'am. There's the canteen straight along that passage, there. " He pointed for me, and I smiled my thanks.

"So, Paul, have you worked here long?" I kept my gaze on him, looking as interested and as pleasant as I possibly could. I really did feel sorry for him. All he was, was lonely, and I knew all about that. I listened to his hesitant answers, and smiled, and gradually he loosened up a little, and began to smile back. There was no hint of anything sexual in his mind, he was just glad to have someone to talk to.

After a while I glanced at my watch and said,

"Listen, Paul, can you do me a favour? Do you know Victor Madden?"

"Well, I know what he looks like," he said cautiously.

"Did he come through here not long ago?"

"Yes ma'am, he went through to the canteen."

"Well, he's going to be coming back in a little while. When you see him, could you wait exactly five minutes and then phone me in room G27, please? When I answer, would you just say, 'Mrs Northman, your taxi's here.'?"

"Taxi?" There was confusion in his face.

I smiled conspiratorially and leaned over to whisper, "I don't know about you, Paul, but I'm sick of these vamps taking us humans for granted, and that Victor Madden is one guy I would love to put in his place. He's been messing with me all evening, and I want to mess with him just this once. He's been treating me like dirt, and I need to show him he can't treat people like that. Would you help me? Please?" I turned up my smile some.

His expression changed, and he said. "Sure. I wait five minutes after I see him, then call you in G-27 and tell you your taxi's here. That's all?"

"Yup. That's perfect. Thanks, Paul. You're a really sweet guy."

"You're welcome, ma'am."

"Call me Sookie. Talk to you later." I smiled again and headed back to my room.

First, I re-packed my bags. I had to make this look real. Then I started thinking through some of the things Victor had told me, making a list of queries for Mr Cataliades on a steno pad I'd found in the nightstand. I really didn't like the idea of dissolving my pledge with Eric, but I couldn't see a way round it; as far as I knew it was the only thing protecting me from being annexed by another vamp, specifically Victor. I had a good idea he would try to form a blood-bond with me the instant he could, and I would do almost anything to avoid being bonded to that creep. I realised I didn't know if it was even possible to have another bond on top of the one I already had with Eric. That was really weak now, so could it be over-ridden? I put it on my list of questions. I really hoped the food would arrive soon; I hadn't been bluffing when I told Victor I was starving.

Ten minutes later he was back. He had a young Were in tow, carrying a tray of sandwiches and Hallelujah! a pot of coffee. He introduced the Were as Ramon, and said he would be my bodyguard during my stay here. I smiled pleasantly at Ramon, who was medium height and wiry, and I thanked him for the sandwiches, offering him one. I needed him on my side. He said no, but at least he was polite. A point in his favour. He took up his post immediately outside my door, while I talked to Madden. Or rather, I allowed Madden to talk.

First, he handed me a new keycard. "This will allow you to access all areas, Mrs Northman, except for the fifth floor. I have also set up conference facilities in Room 14 on the third floor for you and your lawyer." An expression of false regret came over his face, and I knew that this was going to be the sticking point. "Regrettably, your request to visit your husband cannot be granted without the express permission of the king. RP Eight prisoners are not permitted visitors. Similarly, as he is effectively a royal detainee, only his majesty can make alterations to his regime. I'm truly sorry, but the matter is out of my hands."

Truly sorry my lily-white ass. I had expected him to call my bluff. Unfortunately for him, I was not bluffing. On cue, the room phone rang. I answered it

"Hello?"

"This is reception, Mrs Northman. Your taxi is here."

"Thank you. I'll be right out"

I replaced the receiver and turned back to Victor, who I knew had heard every word, with his vampire hearing. Looking at the expression on his face, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Please excuse me, Mr Madden. I have to complete my packing." I started looking round the room as though checking that I had got everything.

"You can't leave…" I whipped round and glared at him.

"Oh can't I? I think you'll find that my lawyer says I can. Have you ever done business with Mr Cataliades, Mr Madden?" The expression on his face told me that he had. I glanced at my watch. "He's gonna be knocking on that door in about three minutes, and I don't think he'll take very kindly to you telling me I can't leave when I want to. That's called kidnapping in this country. Now, I told you, if you can give me what I want, I'll talk to you. If you can't, we have nothing further to discuss. Don't let the door hit you on your way out." I turned away from him and began snapping the locks on my case.

"I…I cannot possibly interrupt his majesty at the moment. He is giving audience to some very important people."

"I thought _you_ were a very important person, Mr Madden. As the king's lieutenant, you have the right of access at all times. Don't you?" I knew this from Eric's lectures in vampire hierarchy and politics. I had found them a major yawn at the time, but what do you know? Something from them had actually came in useful. I guess I should thank my honey yet again.

"Well, yes…"

"_Then access him_. The meter's ticking on my taxi, and as soon as my lawyer arrives we are out of here unless I see some movement on my demands, and then it's bye-bye Louisiana, hello Mississippi. Is that clear?" I was so close. I was not going to back down now. He hesitated, and I glanced at my watch again. That seemed to decide him, and he backed to the door, fumbling for the handle.

"I'll see what I can do…"

"You do that." I turned away, apparently dismissing him from my thoughts. He really was pathetic. He always had to use other people to do his dirty work for him; he himself seemed incapable of direct action. I'll bet when he was young he was the kind of dirty little sneak who hung around the big kids in the schoolyard, telling tales and toadying up to them, living in their shadow but amounting to almost nothing on his own.

The door closed behind him, and I looked around to find myself alone again. I counted to thirty before allowing myself to heave a sigh of relief. I wanted him well out of earshot before I admitted to myself how close I had come to caving. Well, that was my first real test of strength, and I had got through it. I was quite sure he would be back with everything I had required before too long.

I ate some more of the sandwiches while I waited for Mr Cataliades, and poured myself a strong cup of coffee, black and sweet. I had a feeling I was really going to need it before the night was over.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

EPOV

As I knelt in front of the king I cursed myself by every god I had ever heard of for being stupid enough to fall into Victor's trap. I had always prided myself on my cunning, and I had walked into something as simple as this! How often had I instructed younger fighters, "watch the weapon hand, but always be aware of the hidden hand – you never know what it conceals." I had manoeuvred so successfully against what I had thought were Victor's best strategies that I had neglected to follow my own advice, and I had failed to see his simpler plan. Now my arrogance was going to cost me everything I had. My rage and despair built, but I forced them down. I knew I had to keep my emotions under control. If Sookie felt them through our bond she would come running, and it would probably cost her her life. Mine was certainly forfeit at this moment; there was no way King Felipe could not pronounce a sentence of final death.

I bowed my head and waited for the words that would seal my fate. It would be a hard death, but I would face it as a Viking.

"Eric Northman, I find you guilty of the charge of treason." Guilty. I had no hope now. There was no appeal against the king's decision. I waited for my doom, but the king paused. I glanced up, and saw that Victor was murmuring quietly to him. The king nodded and continued, "I have been reminded that, as the charge is so grave, due time should be taken for consideration before sentence is passed. I shall deliberate on the appropriate punishment for two weeks. You will be kept in custody until the 24th, when you will return to hear me pronounce sentence. RP Level Six." Again he paused at a murmur from Victor, before correcting himself. "RP Level Eight. Guards, remove the prisoner."

RP Level Eight? I wondered what that meant, as I was hauled to my feet by the two vampire guards. Nothing good, I should imagine.

I did not look up as they escorted me from the court room. I had no desire to see the triumph in the eyes of Victor Madden, my enemy (and the king's, if only he had known it). I had tried desperately to convince King Felipe that the papers found in my room had been planted by Madden, and that he was the one treasonously corresponding with a rival king, but I had only my word, whereas Victor had brought corrupt witnesses to testify against me. He had worked for the king for more than a century, but I was new to the power structures of Nevada after the bloody takeover of my own state of Louisiana and the death of my Queen. King Felipe had no reason to trust me.

I wished desperately that my bonded had been there to probe the minds of the humans Victor had suborned, and reveal the truth, but I could not put her in such danger. I would rather meet the sun than bring her within the range of Madden and his cohorts. I knew once she entered Felipe's headquarters, she would not be allowed to leave again; she was too dangerous and too valuable; She would be either drained or enslaved, and I could not bear either one for her. I tried to tell myself that my final death was the best thing that could happen to her, as it would remove any hold the vampire community had over her. She would regret me for a time, but the human heart is resilient. She would recover. As for me, I would not have long in which to regret her.

While I was occupied with these thoughts I had been escorted out of the courtroom and along a series of corridors and down stairways, before reaching a sturdy metal-studded door. This was unlocked by a guard and I stepped through and found myself at one end of a high-roofed hall, with two rows of back-to-back cells leading away from me. There was a catwalk above, from where you could look down into them. I recognised the place; I had been here before briefly, but on what you might call the remand side – for those awaiting trial. Now I had been transferred to the condemned cells.

There was a Were guard sitting at a desk next to the stairs leading up to the walkway. He glanced at me wearily and spoke to my guards.

"Yeah?" He sounded bored.

"Northman, Eric, awaiting sentencing for treason. RP Eight." The Were raised his eyebrows. I wasn't sure if he was reacting to my "crime" or to the RP Eight. No doubt I would find out before long.

He pushed a plastic tray across the desk. "Empty your pockets."

I did so. There wasn't much. A Gucci billfold, my credit-cards, an elegant Mont blanc fountain pen, my cell phone and a handkerchief. He inventoried them, and then gestured to my arm. "The watch." I added my Rolex to the tray, and he wrote it on his list, before checking his clipboard and saying, "Cell eighteen." He pressed a button on his intercom and said, "Jesse, Mike, you're up. RP Eight" There it was again. Then he got up from his desk and selected a key from board behind him. He moved to the first cell in the row, unlocked the door and swung it inwards.

The cell was similar to most of the cells I had been in before (and in the course of a long life, that was quite a few), except in one respect. It was roughly 20 feet square, and contained only a table in the far corner and a large platform, taking up a lot of the floor space. The platform was about twelve inches high, about nine feet square and it was made of white tiles. I knew why, of course; tiles were easy to clean. I looked around, and sure enough, in one corner there was a small open drain. That made it much easier to wash the blood and debris away when they had finished with me. There was no coffin, of course. I did not expect that I would be permitted much sleep, if any. The unusual feature of this room was that the walls and ceiling were all mirror-finished, so that you saw yourself reflected to infinity.

My guards gestured for me to enter. As I stepped across the threshold, I gasped and stood still as I felt a strange sensation. The bond. My blood-bond with my lover. It was gone. It was not that she was dead – there was no pain – it was simply…gone. I had never felt such a thing and I turned to look at my guards in puzzlement.

They nodded and one of them grinned and said, "Felt it, did ya? This cell's shielded with chrome. It disrupts blood-bonds. You don't deserve comfort, you fucking traitor!" Then I understood. I had heard of this before; the reflective surfaces in the cell prevented Sookie or Pam from feeling or hearing me, or me them. Considering what was going to happen to me that was probably a good thing, although I would have given much at that moment to have had my bonded with me. To have held her in my arms, inhaling the fresh scent of her hair, and feeling her warmth and life pressed against my cold body would have been inexpressibly precious. I brought my thoughts back to the present, and to the reality that faced me now. Two large Were guards had arrived, presumably Jesse and Mike. They were carrying heavy crates, each marked RP8, and as they looked at me I recognised the expression on their faces. It was that of a predator looking at its helpless prey. This did not bode well for me.

They came further into the cell, and I stepped back a pace to allow them to enter. The vampire guards also entered, the door was swung shut and the Were outside turned the key. Those inside did not hold keys. I approved of the security arrangements.

The two Weres put their crates on the table in the corner and then turned to face me. One of them said, "Strip."

I raised an eyebrow, and then began to take off my clothes. I handed each item to him and winced as he stuffed it into a plastic sack. This was Armani, and he was treating it as if it was from a thrift store. When I was down to my navy-blue silk boxers, he said, "those too." I shrugged and removed them. Nudity made no difference to me; I was a Viking and was as comfortable naked as I was clothed. I had fought as a berserker, clad only in my battle-fury and the blood of my enemies, on many occasions.

He leered at me briefly, but I knew that it was simply a token gesture, an attempt to humiliate or embarrass me, and I smiled slightly. Then his gaze fixed on the gold chain around my neck.

"Take that off."

I shook my head and spoke for the first time. "This stays with me." I put my hand protectively over the locket that hung from the chain. I had only had it for two weeks, but it was one of my most precious possessions. Knowing I was going to be away from Sookie for some time, I had surreptitiously acquired a photograph of her and it never left my person. Every dusk my first act on rising was to kiss it and every dawn it rested above my silent heart as I went to my rest.

The Were grinned and glanced at the two vampire guards who were still behind me. Before I could move they had seized my arms and dragged them behind my back, twisting the locket free from my fingers. I fought, snarling, but could not overcome two of them at once. The Were stepped forward and hooked his fingers in the gold chain, snapping it with a sharp tug. Then he studied the locket, glancing at me. I had ceased struggling, my focus entirely on the Were's hand, but my captors still held me. Then he flipped the case open and gazed at the face of my darling. He whistled appreciatively and I hissed in frustration while my fangs ran out. I hated the thought of my lovely one being leered at by a shifter in this way.

Then my rage surged as he said, "Hey, Mike, look at this cutie. What's a little cupcake like this doing with a vamp? What do you think's wrong with her, couldn't she find herself a real man? she must be one of them skanky fangbanger whores, likes fucking a corpse. She should try some warm meat for a change," and he cupped his groin suggestively. Had I stopped to think, I would have realised the unwisdom of attacking against such odds, but I did not stop to think. The red mist rose, my adrenaline surged, and with a supreme effort I tore myself from the grip of the two vampires who held me and left the ground heading straight for the Were's throat. I felt my body impact on his and then he hit the wall as my fangs met his flesh. I was so intent on his death I barely noticed the blows that rained down on me, as I savaged him and felt his lifeblood flow into my mouth. I drank deeply, feeling his strength ebbing and mine increasing.

I roared in triumph and I rejoiced that I had avenged my love's honour, and then I felt hands scrabbling at my neck, something fastened round my throat and I suddenly felt a hideous weakness overcoming me, sapping my strength. I knew that feeling. It was silver!

The other Were guard, Mike, had taken a silver collar from the crate on the table and had succeeded in clamping it round my neck as I feasted. I fell to my knees, gasping, and wondered vaguely why I was not howling in pain. I raised my hands to my throat and felt roughness. The silver was wrapped in something, so there was no direct contact with my skin. I was weakened, but not burned. Then my wrists were forced behind my back and manacled. The weakness increased and I knew the chains were also of sheathed silver. I was dragged to the raised platform and pushed to my knees in the centre of it. A hand in my hair yanked my head back, and I saw Mike standing in front of me, his face contorted with rage. Even as his fist drew back to strike me, I smiled. His friend, Jesse, was making an obscene, bubbling, choking sound as he tried to draw breath through his mangled throat. I knew he would not survive. I had not chosen that he should.

One of the vampire guards was on his radio, presumably calling for help. The door to the cell unlocked behind me and I heard two more Weres enter. While Mike was beating me, I heard Jesse being carried away and someone called Rory being called to replace him. Mike kicked me hard and I gasped sharply as I felt a rib snap. The beating went on for a long time.

At last the door opened again and someone came in. Mike dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back, breathing heavily. I could see the damage he had done reflected in the wall in front of me. My face was cut and bleeding. One eye was swollen shut and my nose was broken, together with a cheekbone. My lips were split, my ribs were on fire and there was a great deal of blood, some mine and some Jesse's. The berserker rage had long since ebbed, and the pain had nothing to alleviate it except the knowledge that I had destroyed the scum who had spoken so of my only love. I knew I would heal, given time, but I was not sure I was going to be given that time because, reflected in the walls around me, was a familiar figure. Victor Madden.

He walked round the platform until he was facing me as I knelt. His face was full of regret, but I could see the hidden satisfaction as he tutted.

"Oh Eric," he said, reproachfully. "What have you done? I would have done my best for you while you were here, but now I really don't think there is anything I can do to help you. I was trying to get your RP reduced, but I'm afraid after this little exhibition, there will be no chance of that. "

I spat out a tooth, together with a mouthful of blood. He stepped back as it splashed on his polished shoes. "RP?" I enquired.

Victor smiled. "Rehabilitation Program. Every convict here is subject to an educative regime," he said. "Our program goes from Level One, which is quite mild really, right up to Level 8, which is for people like you, oath-breakers and traitors. I have planned your regime myself, just to make sure you get the extra attention you deserve." His eyes were cold. "What caused your outburst anyway?"

"He spoke insultingly of my…of Miss Stackhouse." I nodded to where the locket and chain lay on the floor where Jesse had dropped it. Victor stepped over to it and picked it up. He also looked at the picture and I gritted my teeth as he caressed her face with one finger. I had no chance of reaching him, however. The silver was very effective and I was still held on my knees by the vampire guards.

"Well, that was very bad, to be sure. What did he say?"

The other Were spoke up. "He didn't call her nothing but what she is, a fangbanging bitch-ho."

"Hmmm." Victor considered for a moment. "Will he live?"

"Reckon not. His throat's tore out."

"Good." I was startled at Victor's response, but did not let him see it. He continued. "That saves me the job. We can't have people speaking disrespectfully of the king's telepath, now can we? So, well done, Eric,"

I carefully kept my features blank, but my mind went into overdrive. So this was the future they planned for her! What lies would they tell her to induce her to work for them? I couldn't bear to think of what my dearest would suffer when I didn't return. What would she think of me? That I had betrayed her, as Bill had? I would have drained thousands to save her from that pain, but I was helpless. In spite of myself I groaned, and his smile widened, knowing my torment. Damn him! Damn him to Hel!

"As a reward for your loyalty to her, you may keep this little memento," he said. He went over to the wall in front of me and hung the loop at the top of the open locket over a hook in the wall, adjusting it so that I could see her face, and then smiled. "We'll just leave this here, shall we? I hope she is of some comfort to you. You're going to need it. Goodbye Eric. You won't be seeing me again; RP Eight prisoners are not allowed visitors. But rest assured I shall be not be far away." He gestured to the ceiling. "One-way glass. I shall spend many happy hours on the catwalk above, observing your education. These cells are completely soundproof, so I won't be able to hear you screaming, but I have no doubt that you will be doing so." Then he left the cell and my ordeal began.

The first thing they did was to secure me in place. The silver collar that had subdued me was replaced with a much thicker, heavier version, which had four loops on it, equally spaced. Four long, sturdy, adjustable steel struts, rather like the poles on a tent, were clipped to them and then extended to fastenings on the four corners of the platform on which I knelt. They were carefully adjusted so that each strut tensioned the others, and together they held me virtually immobile on my knees. Then I was put in leg-irons, again silver. This time I could see that they were wrapped in leather. They hung the keys to the chains just below my portrait of Sookie, where I could see them but not reach them.

Now that I was secure, the vampire guards excused themselves and the guard at the desk let them out. They said dawn was approaching, but I was already aware of that. I could feel it myself. My limbs were growing heavy, and I knew that, had I been free, I would have been seeking shelter about now. Of course, as Weres, my guards felt no compulsion to rest with the dawn. They could keep going as long as necessary, in shifts. I knew with almost prophetic certainty that they were not going to permit me the luxury of sleep; certainly not today, perhaps not at all. This was going to be bad.

Next, they shaved my head. It was a curious sensation. I had had long hair all my life, never doing more than trimming the ends when necessary, and it grew to well below my shoulder-blades. Watching the bright gold locks falling to the floor under the razor, I was glad my love would never see me like this; she would mourn the loss of what she called my crowning glory. She loved to twine her fingers through it as we made love, and to braid it for me when I chose to wear it more formally. I would have liked to have sent her a lock, as a keepsake. I knew that, however quickly it grew back, they would simply shave it off again. Vaguely, I recalled a tale I had read somewhere about a hero whose strength had been in his hair, and who lost it when a false woman had betrayed him and cut his hair while he was sleeping. I felt weak, but it was not the hair – it was the cursed silver. I was no stronger than a human – certainly no match for a Were.

When they had finished with my hair and I had stared at the strange reflection that looked back at me with a naked skull, they began to empty the crates they had brought. They took great pleasure in showing me each item and explaining its purpose. This gave me some hope that they were not very skilled in this role. I had considerable experience of torture, both as the torturer and the tortured (how not, in over a thousand years of life?) and I knew that it was infinitely more effective not to explain the use of the various tools; nothing was better than the victim's own imagination at creating horrors of anticipation.

I prayed that the guards who would be my tormentors for the next fourteen days were not as adept as I was, but I did not delude myself. I knew I would need every ounce of fortitude I had. As a very last resort, I could go into my hurricane room, but I did not do that lightly.

This was a skill I had learned many centuries ago. When I had lived in Nepal for a time, I had encountered a very ancient vampire who had taught me how to retreat inside myself at need. I had explained it to Sookie by saying that, just as 18th and 19th Century human planters in the Caribbean had built a special, windowless, safe room at the centre of their houses, in which they could wait out the devastating hurricanes which hit their region, so it was possible with practice to retreat into a similar safe room in your head at times of great suffering. The body still functioned and responded, but purely on reflex; the mind was absent. The danger was that it was sometimes difficult to re-emerge. The longer you spent in there, the harder it was to come back. Many vampires had this ability, but I had known those who remained lost inside themselves and could not be reached. I had used it before but had never spent more than two days at a time in there; the risk was too great. Still, it was there at need.

It appeared that my "educative regime" was carefully written out on a clipboard, which they consulted periodically. Again, they made the elementary mistake of reading out loud what the next "lesson" was to be, thus giving me time, even if only a few seconds, to prepare myself. I must confess, though, that at their first words a shudder of horror ran through me. They were going to rip out my fangs.

The fangs are the most integral, fundamental part of being a vampire, the defining characteristic, if you like. They are intrinsic to our wellbeing – in the past, before True Blood and donor clinics, if you lost your fangs, you lost your life. It was almost impossible to feed without them, and they took three to six months to grow back. During that time a vampire would grow so weak from lack of food that they were stake-fodder to any human who came across them. A vampire without his fangs was no vampire at all - an object of derision and mockery among others of his kind.

My tormentors put down the clipboard and came back to me. One took up position behind me and clamped his arm across my forehead, while the other stood in front of me, a pair of silver pliers at the ready. My jaw was forced open and I felt searing pain as the silver came into contact with my mouth. However, that was as nothing compared to the agony that ripped through me as the guard tore and twisted my left fang from its socket.

Victor was right; I did scream. As a Viking, I had been trained to bear my wounds silently, but I had learned over the centuries that there was no value in this philosophy, save only preventing loss of courage in your brothers-in-arms, who might lose heart if they heard you cry out. That did not apply in my current situation; there was no-one to hear me; Sookie was no longer connected to me. I was alone in my pain. My fang came loose with a rush of blood and they threw it to the floor, then went straight in for the other one. That was even worse, and I briefly passed out with the pain, but savage blows to my already injured face brought me back to consciousness. The second fang came out and clattered on the tiles as my guards stepped back smiling. I coughed and choked on my own blood and the coppery, sweet taste filled my mouth. My nostrils were full of the smell of it, and I could vaguely hear them laughing.

I knew this was only the beginning. I had to find some way of surviving this.

As they moved away to the table, I looked at the lovely smiling face of my Sookie and tried to focus on it. I lost myself in her gaze and willed myself out of the place of pain._ Let me come to you, my lover. Let me come to you and lie with my head in your lap, laughing and talking in front of the fire as we did on the long winter evenings._ I closed my one good eye and visualised the scene so strongly that I could almost hear her voice and feel her fingers as she stroked my hair. Then, abruptly, I felt a warm liquid splashing on my face and back. I realised that the guards were urinating on me, laughing as they did so. The urine stung the cuts on my face and the strong ammonia smell filled the cell. I knew then that there was no escape for me. There was no humiliation I was to be spared. Fangless, chained and collared, on my knees, subject to the whims of sadistic scum, I felt I could sink no lower.

The Weres zipped up their pants and picked up many-stranded whips. The blades were of silver, and they were _not_ sheathed in leather. I waited for the anguish to begin, praying for the blessing of unconsciousness, but that was not permitted me. My own multiple reflections mocked me, showing me my ruined face a hundred times over, and then the guards struck and my universe dissolved into fiery agony.

I don't know how long I suffered; time had no meaning in that place. Whenever I could I fixed my gaze on my beloved and tried to go to her in my head, but they always dragged me back with some new torment. I knew these uncouth shifters could not have come up with such subtle tortures; they were merely the instruments of Victor's malice. I tried to focus on him and strengthen myself with thoughts of vengeance, and for a time it worked, but sooner or later I found myself back in my increasingly damaged body. The day passed with no sleep or food, and the next night, and then more days and more nights, and although the guards changed, the torment never stopped. _It never stopped._

At last I knew that I could take no more. I had lost track of how many days I had been without sleep, and the ever-present hunger was beginning to eat away at my sanity, but they were too careful to ever let me slip over the edge into oblivion. Victor wanted me conscious every single second; he wanted me to be aware of what was happening to me. Periodically, they held a bottle of True Blood before me, offering it to me if I pleasured them with my mouth. I did so unhesitatingly, and received small quantities of True Blood in exchange. I remembered Victor saying he would be watching. I did not know if he saw my degradation, but I no longer cared.

I was just sane enough to realise that it was time to go to my hurricane-room. There was not much left of Eric to preserve, but what there was would take refuge inside my head. If I never came out again, at least that was better than what I was enduring. My reflexes were still there; my body still responded to the never-ending torture, jerking and writhing under their attentions, but my healing capacity was now very weakened through lack of nourishment.

I took advantage of a momentary lull as they turned back to their table of implements, now stained and encrusted. They were choosing their next technique and target. I quickly focussed my gaze (I could still only see through one eye – the other one was swollen shut and was possibly permanently damaged) on the portrait. I would try and take her with me. I drew two deep breaths, my broken ribs stabbing me with sharp daggers of pain, and set the reflex mental patterns in motion. I gazed into her face as I repeated the words of the mantra in my mind. I felt myself beginning to drift. Just a few more seconds. A warmth began to creep over me and I felt myself falling into her blue gaze. Nearly there…and…gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**You guys! I didn't intend posting Chapter 4 until next week sometime (I've got a really busy schedule) but you have been so kind to me, and so many of you have said get a move on and update it, don't leave us hanging, that I've had to find some time to tidy up what was a rough draft and get it out there. I hope it doesn't disappoint you. Please remember, reviews feed the muse. **

**I've got the next EPOV almost ready to go, but it will have to wait a while, I think. Sorry.**

**So, here it is. It's quite long, but I didn't want to break it down. I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 4

SPOV

As the metal door swung open and I stepped onto the catwalk again, I could hardly stop myself from breaking into a run. Eric was so close. I controlled myself with an effort. Ramon may be pleasant and polite, but he worked for Felipe and without a doubt would report back to Victor or someone similar. I wasn't going to let him see anything less than absolute control. Show these vamps a hint of weakness and you're done for.

Ramon led the way towards the stairs at the far end of the catwalk, which led down to the cell-door level, and as we passed above Eric's cell I looked down, and my heart sank. His hands were now chained behind his back, and one guard was kicking his knees apart while the other was just picking something up from the table. I couldn't see what it was, but I urged Ramon forward and down the stairs, Mr Cataliades following in my wake, his long stride keeping up with me easily. At the bottom there was a guard with his feet up on a desk, with a clipboard in front of him and a key-rack on the wall behind him. Sensibly, I thought, all the guards were locked in the cells with the prisoners during their shifts; the only keys were held here.

The heavy-set guard nodded in recognition at our Were escort.

"Hey Ramon, how's it going?" he said, lazily. This was a man who clearly took a lot of pride in his work, I don't think.

"Hey Jerry. Couple of visitors for the guy in 18."

Jerry swung his feet off the desk, picked up his clipboard and studied it slowly. He frowned and said, "you sure it's 18, man? Says here he's maximum security."

Mr Cataliades handed him our order, signed by the king (well, what do you know? Victor had managed to see the king after all. There's a surprise. Not.), and Jerry looked at it carefully before transferring his gaze to us, noting that I had 2 six-packs of TrueBlood with me. He motioned to the lawyer to open his briefcase, and he inspected the contents. It contained only paperwork; the documents that Mr Cataliades had quickly drawn up as a result of our earlier meeting, and a lot of notes relating to it. That meeting had been very useful, but all the important information had been conveyed in writing; I didn't trust Vampire Vic not to have the conference room bugged. It would have been so useful if we could have talked "mind-to-mind" but I could only get short bursts from the demon, so it was old-fashioned pen-and-paper time.

We had covered a lot of ground and had agreed on a course of action. It wasn't ideal, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be easy, but it was the best we could come up with before Victor had arrived with the king's order. The lawyer had taken his sweet time examining that, practically crawling round the margins with a magnifying-glass before he was satisfied it said exactly what it looked as though it said.

While he was doing that, I was negotiating with Madden over the amount of time I could have alone with Eric. I asked for two hours, he offered thirty minutes, and we settled on an hour, which was the minimum Cataliades and I had reckoned we needed.

Jerry closed the briefcase, and looked from me to the lawyer again.

"Who are you all anyway?" he asked.

"I am Mr Northman's lawyer," said Mr Cataliades.

"And I'm his wife." I smiled as sweetly as I could as I said it. Jerry's face changed and I sighed internally. I'd seen that particular expression so often in the past that I didn't need to be a telepath to interpret it. He was thinking some variation on the theme of, "what the hell is she doing with him? Why doesn't she find herself a real man?" I was tempted to wither him with a blistering remark, but I was more anxious to get to Eric and stop whatever was about to happen to him. Also, I found I was having a slight difficulty at the moment deciding which occasions warranted which personality; Sweet Sookie Stackhouse or Steel Magnolia Sookie Northman. I decided on this occasion to go with sweet. While these guys had any control over Eric, I did not want to piss them off; they'd only take it out on him while he was helpless.

Jerry looked back at the document in his hand. The king's signature was very clear.

"Well, ok, I guess it's alright." He put down the paper and turned to pick a key from the rack. Then he moved out from behind the desk and headed for the door to cell 18. I looked at Ramon. "Would you wait here, please? My agreement with Mr Madden was that this would be an unsupervised visit." He shrugged and perched on the edge of the desk. There was no way I could escape, even if I'd wanted to: he was next to the way out, up the stairs.

As I hurried after Jerry to the cell door, nearly suffocating with suppressed anxiety and anticipation, I remembered what Mr Cataliades had said earlier. "I hesitate to bring this up Sookie, but do you remember Bill's behaviour when he was released from his torture in Russell's compound? After just five days of food and sleep deprivation he was so out of his mind that he attacked you, remember? These people have had Eric for two weeks. When vampires are placed in conditions of extreme suffering, they can occasionally retreat inside themselves, into a kind of mental fortress, and it is sometimes very hard for them to re-emerge. You must prepare yourself for the distinct possibility that Eric may not even recognise you; it is quite likely that he will be in a completely withdrawn state, at least temporarily. This means that he will be functioning purely on instinct, not reason, and I would strongly advise you not to approach him too closely until you are sure it is safe to do so."

I straightened my shoulders in readiness as Jerry unlocked the heavy door and swung it inwards, and then I recoiled at the awful sound that assaulted my ears. It was Eric's voice, but it was hoarse with agony. I had heard him scream before, when he had been exposed to sunlight in Rhodes, and that had been horrible, but it was nothing compared to what I heard now. At the same time I gasped and doubled over in pain from what was coming through our blood-bond, no longer suppressed by the chrome now the door was open. Eric had always said that when I was being tortured by the fae he had suffered with me, through the bond, but I had never really appreciated what he meant. Now, I knew; his pain overwhelmed me for a few seconds, then, mercifully, it stopped abruptly, the bond cut off like throwing a light-switch as he slumped forward. He had passed out. For the first time in a very long while, I was glad our bond was so weak. I don't think I could have stood the full Technicolor version.

I shook my head to clear it, drew a deep breath and then I hurled myself through the door and into the cell. One guard was stooped over Eric, lashing his face back and forth with the flat of his hand to bring him back to consciousness, and he straightened in surprise at my entry. I pushed at him with all my strength, hitting him over and over again, and in his astonishment, he actually retreated a step before raising his hands to ward off my blows. The other one was standing back slightly, with a shiny metal implement of some sort in his hand, but I didn't want to look at it. To do them credit, they didn't just knock me across the room, but stood there looking dazed. Stupidly, I was yelling, "Stop it! Stop it! Leave him alone, you bastards!" as though that was going to have any effect. Then I heard Mr Cataliades' calm voice saying, "I have here an order signed by the king, commanding that this prisoner's educative regime is to cease immediately. He is to be released from his restraints and provided with adequate food, clothing and a coffin in which to sleep."

The guards gaped in amazement and looked at Jerry for an explanation. Jerry nodded his head. "Better do as he says," he said. "He's got the king's say-so. You need a hand, you give me a holler." Then he turned and went back to his desk. One truly laid-back guy. The guards reluctantly stepped back from Eric's motionless form, and Mr Cataliades took charge, demanding that they show him immediately where to obtain the things specified in the king's order. They quit the cell together, and left me alone with Eric.

He was still spark out, his head lolling forward; The rigid collar-and-strut arrangement was the only thing holding him vertical. I hurriedly knelt on the platform in front of him. For the first time I noticed the smell, and my nose wrinkled. Eric, who was normally as fastidious as a cat about personal hygiene, stank to high heaven. I ignored it and looked closely at his injuries. My eyes filled with tears as I gently stroked his poor, bruised face, then I reached into my purse for a tissue and mopped my eyes. This was when I had to be strongest. Normally I relied on his strength, but right now he would need to lean on me, and I could not let him down. I scanned the rest of him for major injuries, and the worst wound I could find was what the guards had evidently been working on when we had entered. I could see the silver tool on the floor where the second guard had dropped it, and its purpose was now all too clear. It was a wrench, with lockable jaws and they had been using it on Eric's scrotum. The crush marks of the cruel jaws were still visible, burned into the skin. No wonder he had screamed as he had. I shuddered and looked away. My negotiations with Victor were definitely going to include a hospital stay for Eric, whatever else was settled.

I opened one of the bottles of TrueBlood and dipped my finger in it. Then I gently raised his head with my other hand and ran the reddened finger along his cracked, swollen lips. I did it again, managing to trickle a tiny drop into his mouth. At that he stirred slightly. I wondered why the bond didn't re-establish, but realised it must be the chrome. I drip-fed another tiny amount between his lips. His one good eyelid fluttered and opened slowly and I looked into a blue universe of pain. That made me kind of glad of the chrome, at least for now. His eye was bloodshot, but it focussed almost instantly on the bottle when I held it up. I put it to his lips and tilted it. His mouth opened and he swallowed desperately. In a few seconds the bottle was empty and I reached for the second and opened it. Normally, he wasn't wild about TrueBlood, saying it was metallic, but he would drink it when nothing better offered (like me). Now he was downing it like it was the nectar of the gods. The remaining bottles vanished with equal speed and he was looking about for more.

"I'm sorry, Eric, that's all I have. They're bringing some more in a few minutes." At the sound of my voice he looked straight at me for the first time. His stare reminded me of a caged hawk I saw once in a zoo. That eye had been marigold yellow, not blue, but it had been equally unblinking and inhuman. I smiled, tentatively. No reaction. There was no recognition there. Oh hell, this was not good. I tried again.

"Eric, honey, it's me. Do you know me?" Nothing. This was not going to be as straightforward as I had hoped. Okay, Plan B. I sat back and thought rapidly. His mind and memory had to be brought back to the surface somehow. Well, I had some experience of Eric and memory-loss. I had looked after him when he had been cursed with amnesia by a witch. C'mon, Sookie, the clock's ticking. Think, girl, think! The last time he lost his memory, how had he recovered it? I cudgelled my brain, and suddenly an image popped into my mind of him sitting on my bed, with his head in his hands. What had he said? "Sitting here in your room, surrounded by your scent…"

Scent! I'd read somewhere that it had the strongest link to the memory of all the senses. How often had just a whiff of a tangerine conjured up instant images of Christmas for me? Or a smell of pumpkin pie given me thoughts of Thanksgiving? Well, let's see what we could do. I had a tiny bottle of Obsession, Eric's favourite perfume, in my purse. He had given it to me months ago, and I never used anything else. There wasn't much left, but it should do. I rooted around in my shoulder-purse and dug it out. I sprayed some on my wrist and held it near his face. "Smell this Eric," I said. "Does it remind you of anything?... anyone?" After a few seconds he inhaled slowly, held it and then exhaled equally slowly. No reaction. OK, what else had helped him in the past? Any other references to remembering stuff? Oh. That one. When we had first got back together after his memory was restored, we had been in bed, and I had asked him if he really remembered everything. He had said, "Oh yes!" and he had gazed at my breasts and said, "how could I forget these?" and then he had done wonderful things to them, which I certainly hadn't forgotten, even if he had. O-Kaaay. Well, now what?

The first thing, was to do what I should have done some time ago; scan for other people in the area. I let my telepathic sense range out of the cell, but there was no-one around. I picked up the Were guards and Mr Cataliades at some distance, and a lot of vacuums where the vampire minds were (they always showed up like holes in my mental landscape). I checked out the walkway, but there was no-one there. Madden was keeping his side of the bargain; no surveillance. I thought for a minute and then got up and left the cell. Eric wasn't going anywhere. I approached Jerry with another smile.

"Hey Jerry, can you tell me if there is CCTV surveillance of these cells at all?"

"No ma'am, we've never needed that; there's always a guard in there with 'em." A good point. I turned up the wattage on my smile some.

"Jerry, I'm looking for some alone time with my husband. When the others come back, would you ask them to wait out here, until I open the door? Please?"

"Sure, toots." Toots. I let it go.

"Thanks Jerry, you're real sweet." I went back to the cell, pushing the door closed behind me. OK then, let's do this.

His first hunger appeased, Eric looked a little more alert. As far as I could tell under the dirt and blood, his colour was some better. Some of his cuts and bruises were healing as I looked at them. Even the hideous scar across his eye was fading. I clung to the knowledge that he was a thousand years old, and vampires of that age didn't need all that much blood to maintain their strength. I hoped that what I had just given him would boost his recovery. But now I had to work fast, because soon a different sort of hunger would kick in, and if he hadn't recognised me by then, I was in real danger. First off, I looked around for the key to his chains. There it was, hanging on the wall in front of him, always within sight, always out of reach. When it came to the little refinements that made for a real quality torture experience, these guys didn't miss a trick. There was a picture of me hanging on the wall above them. I wondered where that had come from. I didn't recall ever having given Eric my picture, but that was a question for later. Mr Cataliades' warning screamed in my ears as I unhooked the keys and quickly unfastened Eric's manacles. He brought his arms round in front of him and slowly rubbed his wrists, which were raw and bleeding. I decided to leave the collar on just for the minute, as a precaution.

I stood in front of him, just out of reach of his long arms, and slipped out of my jacket, then I began to undo the buttons on my blouse. I couldn't finesse this, I didn't have a lot of time. As I undid the buttons, I talked to him, telling him his name was Eric Northman and that I was his wife. I didn't say my name; that was the test. I told him I was going to try and trigger his memory through his physical senses. I pulled the blouse out of my waistband and peeled it off, then I stepped out of my skirt. That just left me in my lacy black bra and panties and the stockings and heels. I was real glad I'd dressed formal right down to the skin tonight.

By now his gaze was riveted to my body, and I just prayed that the next step would work. I turned my back to him and said, "you see these white scars, Eric? I got those from an angry Maenad. She poisoned me and you helped drain my blood so that I could have a transfusion. That was the first time you ever tasted me." Then I showed him a round shiny scar on my side. "I got this when I was staked at Club Dead in Jackson. You gave me your blood for healing and strength. That was the second time I had tasted you; the first time was when you got shot protecting me in Dallas, and I sucked the bullet out of your chest." I picked up the scent bottle again, and sprayed my bosom liberally. I uttered a short but heartfelt prayer and moved in real close and placed my hands beneath my breasts, lifting them towards him. Then I said, "Eric, you always said that you could never forget these. Well, take a good look, honey, and see if they ring any bells," and with that I unhooked my bra and slipped it off, leaning forward to give him the best possible view of my assets.

Even in his current condition his jaw dropped as he took in the tanned flesh. I have to say that God was very good to me in the bosom department, and there was plenty for Eric to take in. His hands seemed to come up of their own accord and he cupped my breasts gently, rubbing his thumbs slowly across the nipples. I shuddered briefly, but it wasn't with desire; It was the first time I'd had a good look at his hands; he had no fingernails.

Now, I hoped he was doing this because something was stirring, but I wasn't sure if it was his memory or his libido, so I decided to take it to the next level. I removed his hands and straightened up a little. I put my own hands on his shoulders so that my bosom hovered just in front of his face as he knelt. Then I used the words I had so often whispered in the past when we had lain together in the darkness and the moonlight. "Use your mouth, honey."

At that he looked at me intently, before obediently bending his head to one of the firm globes. I felt his cool lips, now less cracked and swollen, and then a bolt of lightning shot through me as his tongue delicately laved my left nipple. His left hand was getting up close and personal with my right breast (it seemed that no matter what state he was in, there were some things he would never forget how to do), and I gasped, but knew that I had to keep focussed. I took a good look round the cell, and it was a perfect antidote to romance. I said, "Smell my scent, honey, it's your favourite". I heard him inhale again, and this time he seemed to hold it in for ever. His tongue continued its work and I murmured all the loving words I normally used when we were in bed together, while trying hard to think coherently. It was getting difficult. Okay, he was using sight, smell, hearing and touch (boy, was he ever using touch!), so the only sense missing was taste, and I knew just how to supply that. It was real risky, but I couldn't stop now.

I bit my lip until I could feel the blood flowing and then I whispered, "kiss me, Eric." For a moment he ignored me, but then he glanced up and saw the bright bead of blood on my mouth. He licked my nipple one last lingering time before blowing gently on it. The cool draft on the damp skin caused it to tighten almost unbearably, and then he raised his head and looked into my eyes, his right hand drifting up to take the place of his mouth.

I put my hands carefully on his face, tilting it to just the right angle, and then I brought my lips close to his. He gently sucked the blood from my lower lip, lapping at it with his tongue as it welled up again. He had always said that my blood was unique; being one eighth fae it was very attractive to vampires, and I hoped he would remember the distinctive flavour. His eyes were closed and I could tell he was savouring the taste, but then his whole body stiffened and his hands stilled their sensuous motion. Oh, hell. Had I just triggered the wrong reflex? I said his name once again, and then suddenly his hands gripped my upper arms painfully and he was staring intently at my face through his one good eye. Something flared in the blue depths, and then he said the first thing I had heard from him that evening. "Sookie?" he whispered, and then he was crushing me ruthlessly against his filthy chest, and I was kissing his scarred face and running my hands across his poor, shorn head and I was so happy I could have cried. He did, two bright red tears mingling with the older bloodstains on his face.

"Sookie…my lover," his voice was weak, presumably from thirst (or screaming in agony), but it was definitely his voice. He was back with me and that was enough for the moment.

But it couldn't last. There was too much to do. Eventually I broke from his grip, which was comparatively weak for the moment and reached for my clothes. I struggled into them, telling him that the others were coming, with clothes and more food and somewhere for him to sleep, and that there would be no more torture. I hurried to the door, and found the others waiting with six more bottles of TrueBlood, a coffin and a big bucket of hot soapy water with a sponge and a towel. They had not yet been able to find clothes big enough for Eric, but that didn't really matter; being Scandinavian he was always sublimely unconcerned about nudity. I beckoned them in and I immediately gave him the new six-pack while the others set up the trestles for the coffin and then I set about removing the collar and leg-irons as he drank. When all the leather and silver was off, I gave it to Ramon and the guards (who still looked dazed at the turn of events) along with the horrible instruments from the table, except for one small scalpel, and told them to get rid of them somewhere. I gently bathed Eric's hands and face, and then the spots where the collar and chains had rubbed him raw. He was looking better with each passing minute.

After I had carefully patted his hands dry (I couldn't bring myself to rub at those dreadful fingers), I asked Mr Cataliades for the final document he had brought with him, and a pen. He produced them and I turned to Eric. He was just swallowing the last of the TrueBlood; I'd never seen a vampire down so much so quickly. He could have done with as much more again, but there was no time. His healing was coming on fast – his other eye was now open and it was so good to see both his eyes looking at me that I nearly forgot about his shaven head.

"Eric," I said. "We have a plan to get you out of here, but part of it depends on you signing this document. I don't have time to explain it to you, but I'm asking you to trust me. Please sign it."

Eric frowned. This went very much against his nature; as a businessman he was used to reading everything very carefully before signing it.

"Eric, honey, we don't have time; Victor will be here in twenty minutes and you have to understand a whole bunch of stuff by then. _Please,_ honey, trust me." A stubborn look came across his face. Damn him and his vampire pride! Desperately, I used a phrase he had used in the past to justify his outrageous manipulation of me. I said, "can you doubt that I want what's best for you, my lover?" He raised an eyebrow sardonically; He knew what I was doing. Then his expression softened and he held out his hand for the pen. I handed the document to him (he had still not moved from his knees) and he slowly signed it where I indicated. Then Mr Cataliades witnessed the signature and dated it together with the time (that was real important), before putting it back in his briefcase and leaving the room. He would keep Ramon and the guards out. I heaved a sigh of relief. Phase One complete. Now came the tricky part. I had to persuade Eric to agree to a divorce.

Swiftly I told him what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, including Madden's offer of commuting the death sentence to banishment. He started to try and explain how this whole sorry mess had happened, and I cut him off. "No time. I know he framed you; right now the how is not important. What's important is getting you out of here, so shut up, save your strength and listen. Victor knows he can't force me to do anything without your consent as long as we're pledged. He says we can dissolve the pledge by mutual consent, and that then I can choose for myself where I go and who I work for." Eric started to protest, but again I cut him off. "Eric, if we don't consent to this, then you die, slowly and horribly and by law, as your wife, _I have to watch!" _ His expression changed as he took in that information, and I pressed my point. "I get a front-row seat every day for the next six months, watching you die by inches. I can't do that. But if I go to work for Felipe willingly, then I can negotiate very favourable terms for your release. And it means I will be able to hunt for evidence proving Victor framed you. If I can do that, we can get you a pardon from the king and you can come back to Louisiana. I know it's not ideal, baby, but we're in a mess right now and I can't see any other way out of it.

I want you to promise me you will go to Sweden, and that you will stay there. You mustn't try to contact me or anyone else you know in America; if you do they and you will be killed. That includes me. Please Eric. I can do this if I know you're okay." My eyes were starting to well up with tears at the thought of losing him, but I forced them back. "As long as I can think of you alive and safe somewhere, I can carry on. Please don't make this any harder for me, honey. I need all my strength to get through this as it is."

"But Victor will force you to form a blood-bond with him." His voice was a little stronger.

"He can try, but I've been speaking to Mr Cataliades about this, and he says that if I already have a strong blood-bond, a second one cannot override the first; it won't take. So, we have to renew our bond, and we have to do it now. He will be here in ten minutes." He didn't move. I had to get through to him somehow; Time was running out. I know it was low, but I did the puppy dog eyes thing and said in a hurt voice "Don't you want to be bonded to me any more, Eric?" Eric looked at me desperately.

"Sookie…I can't…my fangs…" I knew what he wanted to tell me. I'd already seen the gaps where his fangs had been ripped out. They would re-grow but it took a long while.

"No problem, Eric." I produced the scalpel I had kept from the Happy Torturer's Play Set and said, "Lie down." He slowly, painfully, tried to unfold his long legs. He was so stiff after having been forced to kneel for two weeks that he needed help. I eased his huge frame onto his back, then I knelt behind him and cradled his head in my lap as I had so often done in front of the fire back home in Bon Temps. He sighed and closed his eyes, and I felt some of the tension go out of him. I gritted my teeth and made a small cut in my wrist with the scalpel. Owww. The bright arterial blood welled up, rich with oxygen, and at the scent he opened his eyes again. I held my wrist over his mouth. "Open wide." He did so and the droplets started to trickle down his throat. I squeezed at the wound and wriggled my fingers, trying to encourage the blood to flow more freely, and he gulped at the trickle thirstily, his eyes closing again as he swallowed. He was so tired.

He stopped drinking after a while and looked up at me, questioningly. He wanted to know if he had taken too much. "Keep going, baby," I said. "This will have to hold us for a long time." My eyes welled up as I spoke, and I couldn't prevent a tear falling. It splashed on his cheek. He said nothing but began to drink again. He understood. I ran my other hand gently over his head, feeling a light, prickly stubble which was all that remained of his crowning glory. Eventually I began to feel a bit giddy, so I held the wound to his mouth and said, "would you heal it for me, please, honey?" He licked the tiny cut thoroughly, ensuring it was well coated with his coagulant-laden saliva.

"Thanks."

I took a good look at him. He was much pinker. I decided he could stand a little blood loss, so I said, "now it's your turn." and I moved round to lie on top of him. This was the easiest and most comfortable way to receive his blood as he was so much taller than me. I held the scalpel above his chest and looked at him enquiringly. He nodded and I made a small cut just below his left nipple. The blood welled up sluggishly and I put my lips to it and started sucking. He moaned a little and his arms came round me. Giving their own blood is almost always a very powerful erotic experience for a vampire, and my position on top of Eric was more than a little suggestive. I continued drawing strongly on the wound before it healed over, and felt him beginning to move beneath me. That was kind of embarrassing, but kind of a relief; it suggested that the guards hadn't managed to do too much damage before we got to him. I kept drinking; I knew I had to take more than usual; if we didn't see each other again for a while, I wanted our bond to last as long as possible. He was aware of this too, and made me re-open the wound when it healed.

At last, I knew I would have to stop. Victor would be here in a minute, and I didn't want him to find us in this compromising position. My telepathy told me he wasn't here at the moment, but he wouldn't give us a second more than he had agreed.

I stopped drinking and tried to sit up. Eric's arms tightened round me and for a minute I thought he wasn't going to let go, but then he sighed and released me. I sat up and straightened my clothes, then helped Eric to a sitting position.

I had one last attempt at convincing him.

"Sweetheart, we've only got a few more minutes. Please promise me that you'll consent to our divorce, and that you'll accept exile. If you don't, then everything I've done will be for nothing. I can't lose you; I'd rather know you were alive somewhere, even if we're not together, but at least we have our blood-bond back. I will always be yours, but this is the only way to save you."

"I cannot permit this sacrifice." His voice was low but firm.

"Eric, how often have you sacrificed yourself for me? I've lost count of the number of times you've been shot protecting me. You even gave me your blood when you'd been chained with silver and needed it for your own healing. Let me do this for you." Suddenly I sensed vampires on the catwalk. "He's coming," I grasped Eric's arm urgently. "Eric, please. Promise me now! We have no more time! Please, honey!"

He looked at me, his blue eyes unreadable. Then, abruptly, he nodded once. I heaved a sigh of relief. I scrambled to my feet and Eric said, "help me up." I thought he'd be better sitting down but he said, "I must," and I understood and helped him to his feet. He swayed a little and then steadied. It was good to see him on his feet again, even though I thought it was an odd mindset that could not tolerate sitting down in the presence of an enemy, but had no problems being buck naked. Still, I wasn't a Viking or a vampire. He squeezed my hand tightly as we turned to face the door. It gave me the strength I needed. The door swung open and Victor stood there, flanked by two other vampires in suits. "Time's up, " he said.

He looked at me. 

"Well, Mrs Northman, have you reached a decision yet?" Even without the bond, I could sense Eric's surprise as he noted Victor's use of my married name. He looked at me, and his eyes held deep regret that I had only acknowledged my marriage to him on the eve of its dissolution. I smiled at him and turned back to face Victor. OK girl. This was it. Scary Sookie to the fore.

"Yes, Mr Madden, I am satisfied that you have fulfilled the instructions I gave you earlier this evening, and I am prepared to open negotiations regarding my _possible_ employment by the king of Nevada and Louisiana," I said formally, emphasising the _possible_.

He smiled. "Excellent. His majesty will be delighted." Then he glanced at Eric, a huge silent presence at my side, and came further into the cell, with his escorts, taking care to remain outside the reach of Eric's long arms.

"Mr Northman." He was being real formal about this. "Are you prepared to consent to the dissolution of your pledge to this lady?" 

Eric bowed his head. "I am." His deep voice was stronger now. He was definitely healing.

"And you, Mrs Northman, are you prepared to consent to the dissolution of your pledge to this man?"

"I am." I was pleased at how firm my voice sounded.

Victor looked relieved, and gestured to the two vamps with him. "These gentlemen have prepared the formal documents of dissolution, which you must sign." We were handed a copy each, but I had no real experience of these things, so I said, " I want my lawyer to look at this. Please call him in."

Mr Cataliades stepped into the cell and cast his eye over the paper, then said, "Just a formal dissolution of a pledge. No hidden surprises," and gave it back. The suits placed it on the table next to where Eric had tossed his copy after one glance.

Victor produced a very expensive-looking pen, all chunky gold and rubies, and handed it to me. "Ladies first," he smirked. I didn't feel very ladylike; I felt like smacking him in the mouth, but I leaned on the table and signed where indicated. For the first time in my life I signed Sookie Northman. It felt odd.

"Now you, Mr Northman." Eric took the pen and silently signed his copy. It was done. We were no longer pledged and I was no longer protected. Eric handed the paper to the lawyer, and then examined Victor's pen closely.

He looked at Victor and said, in a conversational tone of voice, "Nice pen. Is it a Mont blanc?"

Victor swelled with pride. "That is a limited edition Mystery Masterpiece, made by Mont blanc and Van Cleef and Arpells the jewellers. It contains over two hundred rubies and diamonds, there are only three of them in the world, and it cost me seven hundred and thirty thousand dollars!" He uttered these words with an almost religious reverence and I gasped at the price. Eric merely nodded.

"Very nice," he said, and handed it back. Victor reached for it, but somehow the pen slipped through Eric's fingers and landed on the floor. Victor tutted in annoyance and bent to retrieve it, but Eric's large foot was there first, covering the pen completely.

Victor straightened up, puzzled, and Eric looked him straight in the eyes and slowly, inexorably, shifted his weight onto that foot. There was an expensive-sounding crunch, Eric stepped back, and it became apparent that a three-quarters-of-a-million-dollar pen was no match for a two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound vampire. There was silence while you could count to five, and then, without taking his eyes from Victor's horrified face, Eric spoke. 

He said, "Whoops."

Victor's eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he fell on his knees to gather the glittering debris. With shaking hands he tried to fit some of the fragments back together, but Eric had done a very good job and it was clearly a hopeless task. Victor looked up at Eric, quivering with rage, and his fangs extended.

"You'll pay for this, Northman, you vandal!" 

"I'm a Viking, not a Vandal," said Eric, contemptuously. "The Vandals were a fifth-century Germanic tribe; your geography is as poor as your history."

I gasped. He seemed to be deliberately trying to provoke Victor. He succeeded. Victor's face became demonic, his hands curved into claws and he screamed, "You've cost me three quarters of a million dollars!" and launched himself straight at Eric. I screamed in terror, but Eric's left arm shot out faster than I could follow.

There was a strangled shriek and then Victor was dangling with his feet ten inches clear of the ground, Eric's hand closed like a vice around his throat. He clawed desperately at Eric's fingers, but made no impression whatsoever. His legs kicked wildly but he had about as much impact as a three-year-old kicking a tree. His bulging eyes looked desperately at me, "stop him!" he managed to gurgle.

"I don't know how," I said.

The two suited vampires looked at each other and one took a step forward, but halted at Eric's growl.

"Another step and I rip out his throat!" I stared in amazement at him; he was wounded, starved, beaten and exhausted and he was still stronger than Victor! Covered in blood, naked and with a feral snarl on his face, the centuries fell away and I could suddenly see him as a Viking berserker. The suit and the cell phone and the computer were just a veneer, as thin as paper, overlaying a thousand years of savagery. The expression on his face was grim as he spoke to his terrified captive.

"I have cost you three quarters of a million dollars? _You have cost me_ _my wife_! I am going to tear your head off, Madden!" Ah oh. I stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm.

"You'd better let him down honey," I said gently. "We still need him." His expression changed. He looked down at me and the fire in his eyes slowly died. He hesitated for a long, long, moment, and then opened his grip, allowing Victor to fall to the floor. He lay there for a minute, before getting to his feet, shaking. The marks of Eric's fingers were very clear on his throat.

"that's it, Northman! You're a dead man! I wouldn't put in a clemency appeal for you if you went down on your fucking knees! I don't care how much the king wants this bitch, the deal's off!"

Mr Cataliades coughed politely. "Isn't that a decision for his majesty?" he asked.

"He'll do what I tell him to! He always does! He's too idle to find things out for himself, and too stupid to realise that it's me running this kingdom for him! That moron doesn't have the brains to find his ass with both hands and a map!"

Suddenly, Victor stopped, aware of the shocked expressions on some of the faces round him. He went even paler than usual as he realised that he had just grossly insulted his master in the presence of three vampires, a demon (who was also a _very _respected lawyer) and a human, none of whom had any particular reason to be loyal to him, and some of whom had every reason in the world to hate him. I strongly suspected that this was what Eric had been trying to achieve with his outrageous behaviour and remarks; He had given me an enormous amount of leverage over Victor for the future, as well as giving himself the satisfaction of destroying the shocked lieutenant's little status symbol. I was so grateful to my love for doing this for me, but I shuddered when I thought of the risk he had taken. Suppose Victor had not been driven into making those unwise comments? It could have cost Eric (and me) very dear.

Victor pulled himself together, and said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "I must apologise; I am afraid I spoke rashly and in haste. Naturally I shall continue my…my best endeavours to secure a satisfactory outcome at tomorrow's hearing." He turned to Eric, trying to get the conversation back on track. He was going to pretend the remarks about the king had never happened, but it was too late; we had all heard it.

"Mr Northman, if his majesty should in his clemency commute your death sentence, will you accept the alternative of permanent exile from the United States of America?"

Again Eric bowed his head. "I will." I mentally sighed with relief. He was safe. Now I could be strong.

"Very good. Should his majesty agree, you will be required to sign a contract agreeing the conditions of your exile. And now, shall we be going, Miss Stackhouse? We have much to discuss." He deliberately used my maiden name, hoping to provoke Eric into some sort of reaction, but Eric remained calm. The brief burst of violence seemed to have taken a lot out of him. All I could see in his eyes now was resignation. He had given me everything I asked for; now I would give him the only thing I could.

"Mr Madden, I have already told you that I prefer to use my married name."

"But you are no longer married,_ Miss Stackhouse."_ He was fast recovering his composure, and was deliberately taunting Eric. Mr Cataliades coughed again.

"Actually, vampire and human law specifically state that in the event of an annulment of a marriage, the wife may keep the use of her married name if she so chooses."

Victor glared at Mr Cataliades and said nothing.

I said, "so that's settled. _I am Sookie Northman."_ I looked at Eric as I spoke, and tried to convey the message that I was his forever.

"Very well, very well. And now we really must be going," said Victor angrily.

So this was goodbye. I turned to Eric and put my hands on his shoulders, looking up into the bluer-than-blue eyes. His arms came round me and he lifted me from my feet. His mouth found mine and we kissed goodbye, there in that bloodstained torture chamber under the sardonic eyes of our worst enemy.

"Come along _Mrs Northman_." His voice was maddening, and I clung to my love with all my strength, but Eric gently loosened my grip and set me carefully on my feet, stepping back a pace.

"Just one moment, Mr Madden." I was hunting in my purse. I found my tiny scent spray and said, "give me your hands, Eric." He extended them to me, large and strong, and hideously damaged. I kissed them, remembering what they could do to me when they drifted softly over my body in the night, and then I sprayed them with the last of the Obsession, saying, "that's for remembrance." He raised his hands to his face and inhaled deeply. I knew that, with his vampire sense of smell, the scent would remain detectable for days even if only faintly.

I hadn't known how I could bring myself to say goodbye with Victor watching, violating the privacy of the moment, but suddenly I knew what to say. I smiled at Eric, raising my hand to his cheek.

"tills vi möts igen, min make," I said.

Eric smiled back at me, understanding instantly. "tills vi möts igen, min lilla fru," he replied, gently. I saw the sorrow and longing in his face and that was the moment when my heart broke.

I turned to the door and followed Victor. As I stepped out of the cell I staggered as our bond re-established itself just for a second. I was almost overwhelmed with his love and despair. I spun round and saw him through the open door, gazing at me with his heart in his eyes, then the door slammed shut, the bond vanished and Jerry turned the key, separating us for ever. There was an almighty thud, and the metal door shook as though something heavy had hit it. A six-foot-four vampire, for example.

As we climbed the concrete stair, Victor, his lawyers, Ramon, Mr Cataliades and me, I thought fast. As we passed above Eric's cell I looked down. He was standing facing the door with his hands to his face, breathing in the scent I had left him. I reached into my purse for a Kleenex, but as I pulled it out, the lid from my scent bottle was somehow mysteriously caught in it, and clattered to the walkway, before rolling off and hitting Eric's glass ceiling with a tiny clink. Instantly he whipped round and looked up, knowing I was there, and then slowly smiled and kissed the tips of his fingers to me, mouthing the words "min lilla fru."

I was suddenly a little happier. Eric had always been in the habit of using Swedish endearments to me, and he had taught me one or two. There was no way Victor could know that as we said goodbye I had said, "Until we meet again, my husband" and Eric had replied "Until we meet again, my little wife." So, up yours, Victor Madden. As far as I was concerned, Eric and I belonged to each other for eternity, wherever we were, whatever Victor's pieces of paper might say. I walked on, leaving the tiny gold lid behind. It had done its job.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, here we go. I'm sorry it's taken a couple of days, but I find writing Eric really hard, and I want to do our favourite Viking justice. Today is my birthday, so I was able to take a little time off to spend in the Sookieverse**

**I hope you don't mind covering the same ground as Chapter 4, but Eric's take on things is slightly different from Sookie's.**

**I hope you enjoy it. Please review. Many thanks**

Chapter 5

EPOV

_I drift in the warm darkness. I am I. I am all there is. All there ever was or will be. There is nothing else; no hunger, no pain, no body, nothing. Then, after an infinity of time, there _is_ something. A sensation of some sort. I think about trying to identify it, but there is no need. I drift again,safe in the darkness. The sensation comes back, stronger. I consider it in a detached way. After an aeon I decide to examine it. Yes, there it is again. Vibrations of some sort, that dance across my consciousness, leaving trails of light behind them. The light trails hang around me forming images that waver and coalesce and dissolve again. They form sounds, and pictures. They say, _

"I'm sorry, Eric, that's all I have. They're bringing some more in a few minutes."

_That makes no sense. Sounds, with no meanings. This is…different ... The sound is pleasant, enticing. I drift towards the sound, and feel it drawing me, pulling at me. I feel a rushing sensation, as if I am being drawn into something. Then there is a sense of…anchoring…of resolution and I know that I am in a body. I can feel the weight of the body holding me down. I am no longer floating… Now the picture resolves itself into a face. The face is looking straight at me and can clearly see me. Is this me? It does not feel like "me". It must be other than me. The lips on the face move upwards. Then they shape themselves into a sequence of movements, which combine with sounds to form words._

"Eric, honey, it's me. Do you know me?"

That word "Eric" again. I began to feel that it should have some significance for me. Another sensation began to slowly make itself known. This was not…pleasant. I wanted to retreat from it, but I could no longer do so. I knew it for pain. This was why I had left this body - the pain - but that path was no longer open to me. I would have to endure this sensation. It was quite powerful.

The face in front of me moved and then something else appeared in my line of vision. I could not discern what it was at first, but then it became a hand. Again a sequence of words.

"Smell this, Eric. Does it remind you of anything?... anyone?"

Smell…that meant to inhale. I found I could control this body, with an effort. Clearly the face wanted me to inhale, the tone was quite insistent, so I did so. It was easier to comply. Air rushed into my lungs, and I could detect a fragrance. I examined it, but it held no meaning for me so I expelled it from my lungs.

The face vanished and I was alone again, but it was a different alone. I began to examine the senses I now had, and realised quite quickly that the body was confined in some way. I had only a very limited range of movement. I was very weak, and there was a strange metallic taste in my mouth. The pain sensation was ebbing slightly, and as I turned my head I became aware that I was in a room with a great many mirrors. I could see what I now identified as a reflection of myself, and then I could see why I felt the pain. The body appeared to be quite badly broken. I wondered why. I observed a table, some empty bottles, a purse. There was a set of keys hanging on the wall and a small picture above it. The woman in the picture looked familiar, and then the face was back and I realised why the picture looked familiar. It was similar to the face in front of me. Identical, in fact, as far as I could tell. There was the same long yellow hair and blue eyes but the picture was smiling and the living woman was not.

She moved away from me and unhooked the keys. Then she passed behind me and I felt her hands on what I assumed were mine. I was still somewhat disorientated. The key clicked and I felt my arms come free from whatever had restrained them. I brought them round in front of me, the movement causing me more of the unpleasant pain feeling, and examined them. There were quantities of blood and the hands themselves were damaged. I rubbed at the painful areas, carefully.

The woman stood in front of me again, and started speaking. She also started removing her clothes, which was slightly surprising. She said my name was Eric Northman and that she was my wife. I accepted what she said - why should she lie to me?- but no memory of her surfaced. I watched as she stripped right down to a set of black undergarments. Her skin was a light golden colour and her body was quite beautiful. I wondered why she was removing her clothing, but I had no objections. I wished she would come a little closer. I watched as she turned her body and showed me some scarring on her back and side. It seemed a pity to spoil such a beautiful creature in that way. She told me of former incidents in our life together, when she had tasted my blood and I had tasted hers.

I had no recollection of this, but she told me that she was going to try and re-awaken my memory by sensory stimulus. Then she applied a spray to her upper body, turned back to me and removed her bra, leaning forward so that she was almost touching me. Her breasts were exquisite; firm and plump and golden, with enticingly pink, tender nipples. Without even thinking about it, I reached out to touch them. I cupped them in my hands, passing my thumbs across the tips. They felt soft and warm. Then to my regret she moved my hands away. I would have protested, but she moved in closer until her breasts were so close to my face I could see the pores in her beautiful skin. Amazingly, she whispered to me to use my mouth. What kind of woman was I married to? I gazed at her face for a few seconds, before accepting her invitation. I closed my lips around the areola of one breast and licked gently at the nipple. This seemed very familiar, and my left hand carefully caressed her other breast, gently stroking and squeezing the pliant flesh and lightly pinching the nipple as it hardened into firmness under my touch.

I attempted to extend my fangs, in order to feed, but I could feel nothing. I ran my tongue round my mouth, and encountered only voids in my jaw. My fangs had been removed at some point. I felt an overwhelming sense of shame and loss. How had this happened? I had no recollection. Surely I had fought this? Perhaps this was why my body was so damaged; I knew that I must have resisted the removal of my fangs to the utmost. Meanwhile, could not feed, and I grieved that I could not. I could sense the life flowing in the veins of the woman in front of me; hear it pulsing with the beat of her heart. I could smell her arousal, and knew that her blood was now saturated with the pheromones released into her system, and I would have given anything to have been able to penetrate the soft flesh under my lips.

Ah, how to explain the exquisite sensations involved in feeding from a living being? To rest the sensitive fang-tips on the skin, so resilient and elastic, yet so easily pierced. To sense the rush of the life-blood just below, warm and sweet, feeling the heartbeat accelerating with passion, or even better, with fear, then to apply the lightest of pressures, feeling the skin resist slightly before parting beneath the sharp points, like biting into a ripe fruit. To press deeper into the tender flesh, releasing the most wonderful scent in the world, tasting the nectar on your tongue; drinking deeper and deeper, feeling the living heat flow into you, filling you with life and strength. This was true paradise, but I was excluded from it. I had to content myself with the feel and taste of her living warmth under my tongue and lips and hands.

She spoke again, telling me to inhale, so I did, holding the scent within me, hoping for something to trigger a memory. A faint stirring, an image or two, but nothing definite. My tongue continued to alternately tease and soothe her left breast. I sucked gently and her body quivered with the sensation. It would seem that I had some skill in this area. I was certainly enjoying it. She was murmuring words into my ear. It sounded warm, loving, intimate, familiar somehow. The pain in the other areas of my body was slowly receding and I was more than willing to continue caressing this magnificent woman for as long as I was permitted to do so.

Then she said, "kiss me, Eric." I was reluctant to take my mouth from its pleasant occupation, but then a new scent captivated me. This was irresistibly sweet and subtle. I glanced up and saw a drop of blood on her lower lip. I was drawn to it almost immediately, yet somehow I did not wish to leave her unsatisfied; I wanted to finish what I was doing. But I could not resist the call of blood. Reluctantly I licked her nipple one last time before blowing gently on it. Then I moved my right hand up, before raising my head and looking into her blue eyes.

She gently tilted my face, hesitating as I winced from the contact with my injuries, but then her enticing mouth was immediately in front of mine. Her lips were full and moist and pink, with that drop of crimson hanging tantalisingly on the edge of the lower one. I gently sucked it into my mouth, and when another drop welled up in its place I licked that one also. I was completely unprepared for the explosion in my mouth, as the taste of her blood rioted on my tongue. It was rich, it was unique, it was indescribable, it was unbearably familiar to me; something at the back of my mind was chanting _Mine. Mine. MineMineMineMine…_ it was…I froze motionless. Could it be? I hardly dared to believe it, but that intoxicating flavour …

I heard her say my name as I shifted my hands to her arms, gripping them hard, staring at the beautiful face in front of me, the eyes wide with some emotion I could not identify. _Mine! _The chant was becoming more insistent. The name…I had to find the name…I knew this woman…I loved this woman…this was my wife, my pledged one, my lover, my…

"Sookie?" I could barely whisper, but in that instant I knew her and I knew myself and then I was embracing her as if I would never let her go. _MINEMINEMINEMINE!_ My soul rejoiced and I was shaking with elation; I had thought I would never see her again and here she was in my arms, kissing me and caressing me, and something inside me eased and I wept briefly.

"Sookie…my lover," my voice was hoarse but I could have said her name over and over again for ever. I held her to me and she ran her hands over my shaven scalp and kissed me again. I felt as though I had been taken from the depths of hell and transported to heaven. If I had finally died in that moment, I would have been content.

At last she pulled herself from my arms, and I was too weak to prevent her. She hurried into her clothes and as she did so she told me there would be no more pain and that I would be allowed food and sleep. I could hardly believe what she was saying, but she went to the door and admitted four people. One was the demon lawyer Cataliades, one was a young Were I had never seen before, and the other two were Mike and Rory. I cringed when I saw them, but their attitude seemed completely changed. They were quite cowed, and were carrying a coffin, which they began to set up on trestles under the direction of the lawyer. The younger Were was carrying a bucket of water and also, which was far more important, a six-pack of TrueBlood.

Sookie snatched it from him and handed it to me. I ripped the top from bottle after bottle and gulped it down desperately, even though it was cold and viscous. I could feel it nourishing me, healing me, strengthening me. My bones started to knit, and I could feel my flesh re-forming. Meanwhile, my beloved removed the collar and leg-irons I wore. I understood why she had not freed me completely earlier; she had been unsure of my reactions. I did not blame her. She had been attacked by a previous vampire boyfriend when he had been almost insane with hunger and sleep deprivation. She had no wish to expose herself to that experience again, or me to the guilt which had plagued Bill when he realised what he had done. Although she had forgiven him he had never forgiven himself (and neither had I), and I was grateful to her for protecting me from my own instincts.

She hurled the hated silver from her and ordered the Weres to remove it, along with the implements of torture which littered the table. I watched her as I drank, and I rejoiced to see them hurry to obey her. She was magnificent in the way she dominated them. Although I knew she could be as stubborn as a mule, I had not seen her in this light before. Her strength of character astounded me. Any other human female, finding herself in the enemy camp, surrounded by vampires and Werewolves, would have been terrified and intimidated, but not my Sookie. Her air of authority was superb; I could not have bettered her demeanour myself.

It was only when she turned to me that her expression softened. She brought the bucket over and knelt in front of me and began gently sponging my face and hands with the hot soapy contents. It was agony to me, but this was one occasion when my Viking training was useful: I would not have moved or shown a sign of pain for worlds. She washed the blood from my wrists and neck, where the collar and manacles had rubbed the skin raw, and then she patted my hands dry with a towel. Careful though she was, I had to steel myself not to flinch. My fingernails had not yet grown back.

Then she presented me with a document, asking me to sign it. I began to read, but she stopped me, telling me there was no time and I was to trust her and sign it unread. This was not acceptable to me. I never signed a document without reading it carefully first, but she repeated her request, with more urgency in her tone. Then, she said, "can you doubt that I want what's best for you, my lover?" That awakened such memories. I had used those very words to her when I had tricked her into pledging herself to me. I knew perfectly well that she was repeating my own phrase in order to manipulate my response and I was about to reject her attempt, when I stopped and thought for a moment. Why should I not trust her? Had she not shown herself to be trustworthy over and over again? What was stopping me? Only my ingrained survival instincts, which told me never to trust anyone. Surely for her sake I could overcome this? I reached for the pen and slowly, painfully traced my signature, resting the paper on my thighs. As yet I was too stiff to move my legs. The demon lawyer took it and witnessed my signature, then left the room.

My lover had an expression on her face of mingled relief and apprehension. I saw her take a deep breath, and then she plunged into the story of how she came to be here with me. I tried to stem the flow of words, but she told me to shut up and listen. She was clearly quite desperate for me to understand, and as I listened I did indeed understand. I understood completely. Victor wanted to secure Sookie for himself and Felipe, and this was his method of doing so. I now understood why I had not been sent to my final death on the night I was found guilty. If I had been executed then and there, Victor would still have been able to lure Sookie here with the bogus texts from my cell phone, but would have had no leverage over her when she arrived. As it was, he was intending to use her love for me to bend her to his will.

How ironic. When I had first considered the idea of becoming pledged to each other, I had agonised over the dangers of publicly acknowledging my feelings for her, and hers for me. I knew it would be dangerous, but I had always assumed that _she_ would be used to manipulate _me_. I had never considered that _I_ could be used to manipulate _her_!

As she continued, I felt a gathering rage within me. Madden had told Sookie that the price of my life was for her to work for the king. Because we were pledged this required my consent, which he knew I would never give, so he had dared to suggest that we should dissolve our pledge! I knew what would happen if we did so; the instant Sookie was released he would force a blood-bond on her, in an attempt to control her. I would rather die than see this happen to my beloved, and I said so, but she cut me off.

"Eric, if we don't consent to this, then you die, slowly and horribly and by law, as your wife, _I have to watch!" _

I stared at her, not wanting to believe it, but somehow it rang true. As the wife of a convicted traitor, it would be horribly appropriate that she should be forced to observe my suffering. She continued, "I get a front-row seat every day for the next six months, watching you die by inches. I can't do that." Dear heaven, how could I subject her to this? I had not expected my death to be an easy one, but I had never imagined that she would be present.

She continued talking, pressing her point, her beautiful eyes filling with tears as I watched. She begged me to release her from the pledge, to accept exile and to return to my native land. I could not accept this; to leave my wife in danger, and wait passively in Sweden for…what? For Sookie to attempt to establish my innocence? This seemed to be her plan, but I did not consider it a realistic one. She made it quite clear that I could never contact any of my former acquaintances again, on pain of death for myself and those I contacted, including her. But living without her would not be living at all; it would just be …existence, with no meaning. The gods were cruel. I had spent centuries alone and in darkness, and had at last found happiness and light for a brief period, only for it to be snatched away from me just as I began to believe in it. I would rather have remained alone than have the cup dashed from my mouth after one sip.

Then there was Madden. I explained to Sookie my fears that he would attempt to force her into a blood-bond, and her reply caused me both great happiness and great anguish. She said that if our own blood-bond was renewed and strengthened, then a new one with Victor could not be established, and she proposed renewing our bond right now.

There was nothing I wanted more, and I knew that there was no possibility of achieving it. Without my fangs I would be unable to pierce her veins and feed from her. My normal teeth were not sharp enough to break the skin without mangling her dear flesh and causing her severe suffering. Also, she would not heal as I did, and could well be left with scarring. Although this is how she fed from me, I endured the momentary pain for the sake of the unspeakable pleasure of feeling her hot, sweet mouth on my body, taking my very essence into her, knowing that I was becoming part of her. The intimacy of the act made it one of the most powerfully erotic experiences I had ever known, and I longed to know it again, but I hated to reveal my dishonour to her.

She became aware of my hesitation, and her eyes widened. My heart twisted within me as I saw the hurt in them, and heard the pain in her voice as she said, "Don't you want to be bonded to me any more, Eric?"

I could not bear this. Better she know the truth and despise me than think I did not wish to be part of her at the deepest possible level. I had to confess. "Sookie…I can't…my fangs…" I could not continue, but it did not appear to surprise her. She said, "no problem, Eric, " and held up a scalpel. She must have taken it from the table before my torturers had cleared it. But why would she have done that? Then I realised she must have seen the bloody gaps in my mouth earlier, and realised what it meant. I was overwhelmed with relief that she understood, and did not regard me with disdain.

She told me to lie down and I began to unfold my cramped limbs. The pain was excruciating, and I needed her help to support my weight, but at last I lay on my back. I could not yet straighten my legs fully, but she knelt behind me and lifted my head into her lap, so that I was lying as I had so often done in her home before the fire. I recalled that I had tried to use this very image to escape from my suffering, but now it was blessed reality. I sighed and closed my eyes. I was so tired…so tired…then a faint scent caught my attention. There was only one thing in the world that smelled like that. I opened my eyes, to see that my lover had opened a vein in her wrist and was holding it immediately above my mouth. I could see the crimson welling up as she smiled and said, "Open wide." I did so and the first drops fell into my open mouth and burst like ambrosia on my tongue, flooding my whole being with euphoria. Oh God, this was heaven.

The drops became a thin trickle, warm from the lovely vessel and I gulped thirstily, feeling its influence spread through my body. I closed my eyes again, wallowing in the sheer ecstasy of the sensation. Even if I had not been half-starved, Sookie's blood was always heavenly, with just enough fae content to make it irresistible but not so much as to drive me insane with pleasure. I felt my healing accelerate, and strength flowed back into me. I was conscious of a desperate desire to seize her arm and drag it to my mouth, drinking until she was drained completely. I fought it, and looked up at her to see if she was willing to give still more. Whatever my primal urges, I did not want to weaken her. She smiled, sadly this time, and said, "Keep going, baby, this will have to hold us for a long time." It did not take the crystal tear falling from her eye to tell me what she meant. She gently stroked my head as I continued drinking from her until she called a halt, and then I healed her wrist as best I could.

Now it was my turn. She lowered my head carefully to the tiled floor and moved round until she lay on top of me, fitting her body to mine as I straightened out my legs, which I could now do without pain. The weight of her lovely body on my newly-healed ribs was not pleasant, but I was willing to endure it; I had thought this was something I would never know again; the feel of her firm flesh against mine, living and vibrant; her scent in my nostrils and her beautiful face looking up at me. My heart was full, and when she used the scalpel to cut just below my nipple and pressed her warm lips to me, taking my blood into herself, I nearly passed out with pleasure. I moaned slightly and put my arms around her, holding her close.

I could feel the suction of her mouth over the wound and the nipple together as she drew strongly and then I felt a stirring of desire in my loins. I tried desperately to hold myself still, knowing it would embarrass my prudish little love. She was always a curious mixture of wantonness in the bedroom, but restraint when anyone else could see us. I did not understand this, but I accepted it as being part of who she was, and so I struggled to control myself, but the sensation was too powerful and I moved a little beneath her. She did not pause in her drinking, but I heard her heart-rate increase, and her breathing became deeper. I fought against the urge to flip her over and take her right there on the floor of this torture-chamber, knowing I could not so betray her. She kept drinking until the wound healed over, and then I made her re-open it and continue. The more our blood mingled, the stronger our bond.

At last she sighed and stopped drinking. I tightened my arms around her for a second. I did not wish to let her go, but I knew if I did not do so immediately I would not have the resolution to do so later. I released her and she gently helped me to sit up. I was still a little stiff, and although I would have resented offers of help from anyone else, it was no burden to accept assistance from my woman.

She tried once again to persuade me to agree to a divorce, imploring me to let her save me. She pleaded with me to grant her this, not because she did not wish to be pledged to me, but because she couldn't bear the thought of life knowing that I was finally dead. She would rather I was alive, even if she could not be with me. But I could not condemn her to a life of servitude under Felipe and Victor, and I told her so. The sacrifice was too great.

She grew desperate, and reminded me of the occasions when she said that I had sacrificed myself for her safety and at last, I understood. I finally realised that, just as I considered what I had done to be no sacrifice at all if it was for her, so she considered what she was doing to be no sacrifice because it was for me. I knew I did not deserve this woman, but I could not deny her. Just then her lovely eyes widened in fear. She had sensed the approach of Victor Madden. There was no more time. She pleaded with me, and I could no longer resist the beseeching in her eyes. Although it broke my heart, I nodded my agreement. I would give her what she wanted.

She sighed with relief and got to her feet. I knew that I had to face my enemy standing; I would not let him see my weakness, even though it was diminishing with every moment. I asked Sookie to help me up, and reluctantly she did so. I steadied myself against the wall, and then stood tall, holding my Sookie's hand. I squeezed it gently, and she smiled at me before straightening her shoulders ready to face our enemy together. I was so proud of her.

The door swung open and he was there in front of me. Every instinct in my body urged me to launch myself at him, but one thousand years of survival had taught me caution. I considered my position carefully. The two suited vampires with him were not warriors, I could discount them entirely, but there were many guards within call. I was still weaker than I liked and had no fangs, so I could not just tear his throat out. Also, if I killed him without apparent provocation, I would simply be staked. This would not help my beloved. I waited, knowing that with each second that passed I grew stronger.

He entered the cell cautiously, taking care to stay beyond my reach. He was not stupid. I had to find some way of persuading him to attack me. That would bring him within my grasp and would enable me to plead self-defence when I tore his head off. He was speaking to Sookie now, and I was startled to hear him call her "Mrs Northman." How long had she been using my name? It was what I had always desired, but what she had always refused me. It was almost more than I could bear; that she had at last fully accepted the relationship between us, and had taken my name, just as the pledge between us was about to be dissolved. Although I tried to conceal my hurt from her, I think she knew.

Madden came a little further into the cell, but not far enough yet. Then he turned to me. He asked me formally if I agreed to the pledge being dissolved, and although it was one of the hardest things I had ever done, I assented. Sookie squeezed my hand, in thanks. She understood my pain. She also agreed, and Madden gestured to his companions to pass over copies of the deed of dissolution. For once, I had no interest in reading it thoroughly. If I had to do this, I was not going to dwell on the details. The fact of it was as much as I could bear. I glanced over it and tossed it down on the table. Sookie, however, sensibly asked Cataliades to check her copy over, which he did. I was glad that my little love was shedding her naivety. When Cataliades approved it, she signed it, using a ridiculously showy pen which Madden handed her.

Then it was my turn. I saw my hopes of being with Sookie growing more distant with each stroke of the pen, and it was as I did so that an idea came to me. I looked at the pen more closely. I was sure I had seen one similar to it in a Mont blanc catalogue recently, but with sapphire decoration instead of rubies. I had not been tempted to purchase one as it was vulgar and did not appeal to me, but I recognised the workmanship, and knew it to be extremely costly. Madden always did favour ostentation over elegance, and he had been known to spend ludicrous amounts on expensive toys which he thought would enhance his status. Maybe I could use that against him.

I forced my voice into a neutral tone and asked him about it. The fool thought I was envious of it, and almost burst with pride as he described the little monstrosity's virtues. As I had suspected, he valued it highly, which made it perfect for my purposes. I made to hand it back to him, but dropped it on the floor. Before he could retrieve it I placed my left foot over it and slowly crushed it into tiny fragments. I felt a slight stab in the sole of my foot as it disintegrated beneath my weight, and I held Madden's gaze as I heard it shatter. Mature? No. Petty? Possibly. Satisfying? Oh yes.

I provoked him a little further, stepping back from the wreckage and saying "Whoops," in a sardonic tone of voice. I thought he was going to spontaneously combust as he fell to his knees, practically sobbing over the remains of the hideous object. Then he looked up at me, fangs extended, and called me a vandal.

This was perfect. I added a little more fuel to the fire, by informing him that I was a Viking, not a Vandal. I infused as much contempt as I possibly could into my voice as I insulted him, all the while bracing myself for his attack. I was pretty certain I was strong enough to handle him now, but there was still an element of risk. I did not know how fast he was; I could only hope I was faster.

As it turned out, I was. He screamed that I had cost him three-quarters of a million dollars, and came for me in attack mode. The instant he was within my range I took him round the throat with my left hand and lifted him clear of the ground. My warrior spirit rejoiced as I felt his flesh beneath my fingers, and I began to squeeze. My rage built and my blood was hammering in my ears. I barely recognised my own voice as I snarled at his pathetic little subordinates to keep their distance, but they were easily cowed. Then I looked back at Madden, struggling in my grasp, and my berserker ancestors were calling on me to take my revenge on this poisonous little reptile. When I considered what he had done to me this evening, parting me from my eternal love in order to further his meaningless career, I knew what I was going to do and I knew I was going to enjoy every second of it. I would make it as slow as I possibly could; I would revel in his agony, inhaling his screams like incense.

I reached for him, but then I felt something touching my arm, and a cool, quiet voice spoke to me. "You'd better let him down honey, we still need him." Sookie. I could barely see her through the red mist, but her voice reached me as no other could. Her voice, that had penetrated my hurricane room and helped draw me back into the world. Her voice, the voice of humanity that had so often turned me from a dangerous or destructive course, although I would never let her know that she had that power over me. I could not resist her. I swallowed and closed my eyes, briefly, fighting my inner demons that were all screaming at me to _kill, kill, kill, kill_….

Reason re-asserted itself and I knew that she was right. We needed him to intercede for my sentence to be commuted to banishment. He was the only one close enough to Felipe to do it. With deep reluctance, I slowly opened my hand and allowed him to fall to the floor. Sookie smiled at me and my heart lurched. Damn it, how did she do this to me? I would walk through fire for this woman's smile. The voices were fading, the rage was dying down, I was rational again.

Madden was on his feet cursing me and, to my delight, in his rage he completely lost control and badmouthed the king comprehensively and quite (for him) imaginatively. This was what my love would call the frosting on the cake. There were too many witnesses for him to deny it, and I knew that my Sookie would be able to use this to her advantage.

Now the adrenalin rush was fading, and the reaction began to set in. Although I was recovering, the massive effort that I had put into seizing Madden had drained me more than I cared to admit. A sense of resignation swept over me. I had lost my beautiful Sookie. Everything else I had worked for over the last century was swept away; the king would take it all; Fangtasia, my investment portfolio, my homes, even my Corvette were all forfeit, and Felipe would probably give them to Madden. I hated the thought of the little toad enjoying any of my possessions, but that paled into insignificance beside the inescapable fact that I had lost the woman that I loved to the edge of madness.

Had it not been for the distress it would cause her, I could have met the sun at that moment.

I roused myself from my reverie to find that Sookie was still insisting that Madden call her Mrs Northman, and Cataliades was backing her up in her right to use that name. A small gesture, but a touching one. I smiled at her, knowing that she was trying hard to give me some comfort. I had never met such a generous-hearted woman; even in the midst of her own sorrow, she was attempting to console me.

But it was too late for that. The time of parting had come. She put her arms on my shoulders and I lifted her into my embrace. Then my mouth was on hers and we were lost in each other for a brief space of time. So brief. I tried to fix this moment in my memory, so that I would never forget it; The feel of her in my arms, her warmth and vitality; the scent of her hair, mingling with the perfume that I had given her and underneath it all her own unique scent, just tinged with Fae; A tear sparkled on her eyelash and I caught it on my tongue, savouring the taste of her. Then Madden's hateful voice broke in on us and I knew I had to let her go. She clung to me, but I had said so many goodbyes in my long life that I knew from experience that it was better to do it quickly and cleanly. Prolonged goodbyes prolonged the pain. I steeled myself, broke her grip and set her down. I stepped back, knowing that if I stayed too close to her I would seize her to me again and defy them all.

Then she brought out her tiny scent spray again, and emptied it onto my hands, kissing them as she did so. She had no conception of the pain that the alcohol-based perfume caused my injuries; she simply wanted to give me something to remember her by. I put my hands to my face and breathed in the scent. Then she reached up and stroked my face and said a startling thing.

"tills vi möts igen, min make." She called me her husband in the language I loved the best. My heart swelled until I thought it would burst. I could only just bring myself to smile and repeat her words. There was a tremor in my voice as I said,

"tills vi möts igen, min lilla fru." She used to get so furious with me when I called her my little wife, but somehow I thought she would not mind on this occasion. She would never hear the words again.

Then she turned and walked resolutely away from me towards the open door, without looking back. As she stepped through it, our newly-strengthened bond re-established briefly and I saw her stagger as the intensity of my emotion overpowered her just for a second. She turned back then and I felt her love and determination and courage through the bond. What a Viking shield-maiden she would have made! My defences were gone; I could not conceal how I felt about her even if I wanted to, and I know that my undying love for her was the last thing she saw on my face as the door slammed shut between us and the bond was severed. My self-control snapped and I hurled myself at the door, slamming into it with all my force. It shook beneath my assault, but did not give way. I leaned my forehead against it briefly, getting a grip on my emotions and then I straightened up, bringing my hands up to my face to breathe in her scent. It would linger for many days.

As I stood breathing it in I heard the faintest little sound from the glass mirrored ceiling above me and I spun round. I knew where the catwalk lay above my cell, and I also knew without a shadow of a doubt that my love was there, and had somehow succeeded in letting me know she was looking down at me. I smiled and kissed my fingers to her and said, "min lilla fru", knowing that she would recognise the words as I mouthed them.

I stayed there for a few moments, being unsure of how long she would be above me, but I knew Madden would not let her linger, so at last I stopped looking up and instead looked at the coffin. I was overwhelmed with fatigue. The last of the adrenalin that had kept me functioning for the last hour finally drained away and all I was left with was shattering tiredness. Even though I knew it was full dark outside, that coffin was calling to me. I unhooked my portrait of Sookie from the wall and gazed at it. I levitated into the coffin and tried to get comfortable. It was a little on the short side, but quite frankly, I could have slept on the edge of a razor-blade just then. My internal body-clock told me there were at least four hours of dark, and then a good ten hours of daylight. In fourteen hours I could start to recoup some of my lost sleep. I closed my eyes, holding my locket close to me. Then I whispered her name to myself and let the darkness claim me.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

SPOV

Now I had to put the last crowded hour out of my mind and focus on the next hour. These negotiations would form the basis for my and Eric's immediate future, and I was real glad I had Mr Cataliades with me. He knew what I wanted, and he was a magnificent negotiator. The only person I knew who was better was, hopefully, asleep by now in a chrome-lined cell not too far from here. My position had been immeasurably strengthened by what he had done; I had only had one card in my hand, my telepathy, but thanks to Eric I now had two.

Victor knew he was sure of my ultimate agreement, but my knowledge of his outburst made him much more cautious in his negotiations. As we talked back and forth, I let him gain a couple of minor points that I wasn't really fussed about, so that he could feel he had won some concessions from me, but I stood firm on everything that mattered.

I had discussed my terms with my lawyer in advance, and in the end we decided that the most important item, which had almost slipped my mind until Mr Cataliades reminded me, was a cast-iron guarantee that _no-one_ would attempt to turn me, drain me or bond with me, on pain of final death. I had to be real specific about that; Because I had rescued the king from one of the late Queen Sophie-Ann's bodyguards (big mistake, with hindsight – I should have left him to rot!), he had granted me his protection. This, theoretically, should have kept me safe from harm, but any vamp could and would argue that forming a blood-bond or turning me could hardly be classed as causing me harm. They just didn't see things the same way as other folk.

Next, I insisted on some time to go back to Louisiana to arrange for my re-location. There was so much there that I had to tie up, and I wasn't ready to abandon my old life and friends just like that. To me, those were the most important clauses, but Mr Cataliades also negotiated complete freedom of movement at all times for myself and lot of minor perks, including a substantial clothing allowance. The salary I settled for was quite modest (I had a good reason for allowing Mr Dead and Disgusting to beat me down on this). In return I agreed to read any and all humans that the king required, as and when required, provided they were not harmed in any way as a result of my reading. But, and this I was very, very clear on, I would only take orders directly from the king. No-one else had any authority over me _at all._

Victor took the draft away with him, for the king's approval, and I said goodnight and thanks to Mr Cataliades before dragging myself back to my room, Ramon in tow. I barely had strength to draw the drapes before stripping off my suit, removing my make-up and falling into bed. It was four o'clock in the morning and although I knew I should probably be calling Pam at Fangtasia, I had this horrible feeling that that call would last until dawn and I just _couldn't_ face any more tonight. I was completely drained (in the human sense, obviously). I had done what I set out to do, and that was _it_.

My Gran always used to say "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof…" Well, I had seen enough evil in the last twelve hours to last me for the next decade, never mind about one day. However, her point had been, deal with today's problems today; leave tomorrow_ until_ tomorrow. And that's exactly what I was going to do. I whispered a brief prayer of thanks and then I was out like a light.

I didn't stir until nearly one-thirty the next afternoon, when my "human needs" asserted themselves. All that coffee the night before, I guess. After doing the necessary, I got dressed and opened my door, intending to head along to reception. Ramon wasn't outside, but there was a new Were on duty, much bigger and older than Ramon. If I was going to be around here for a while, I needed to make as many friends as I could, as fast as I could, so I smiled pleasantly and greeted him, offering him my hand. He didn't smile back, and he didn't shake my hand. When I asked his name, he reluctantly identified himself as Matt, but a quick look in his mind showed me a whole heap of suspicion and resentment. I got the impression he hated having to nursemaid a little blond bimbo. As we walked down the corridor, I tried to decide what to do about this. Scary or sweet, sweet or scary. Hmmm. I suspicioned he would be a real tough nut to crack; could I bothered right now? Frankly, no. Shelve it for later, Sookie. I had more important things to think about.

I looked for Paul, but he wasn't at the desk (probably in school), so Matt showed me to the canteen, which was down a long corridor, which seemed to be a kind of shopping quarter; lots of small boutiques that served the vampires, Weres and humans that swarmed round this place like ants. The storekeepers had a kind of captive audience, I guess; being a long way out in the desert, nobody was gonna want to trek into town for a carton of milk when they could buy the stuff on site. It made sense, really, and I bet Felipe made a ton out of the rents. I ordered a substantial breakfast. Because it was a twentyfour-seven government-type building, it served all sorts of food all day and night, so there were no raised eyebrows when I asked for scrambled eggs, toast, grits, sausage, bacon, OJ and coffee. I asked Matt if he would like anything, and he hesitated, just for a second, and then shook his head. Maybe food was his weak spot. I filed that away for future reference. Eric had taught me that, too; always look for other peoples' weaknesses, whether friend or enemy. I could almost hear his voice saying, "always be aware of the strengths and vulnerabilities of the people around you; if they are your enemy, their weakness could work for you. If they are your friend, their weakness could work against you, and they may one day become your enemy." Eric had a few trust issues.

The canteen was really pleasant. It faced south, for the sun, and had huge glass doors looking out on to the gardens, but the glass roof had blinds, so it wasn't glaring. It was full of small wooden tables, about half of which were occupied, but it was really huge, so there was plenty of space. The walls were all in aquatic motifs; fish and shells and seaweed and such, in blues and greens, and it was very restful. I took my tray to an empty table near one of the doors, and Matt sat at the next one. Then I addressed myself to my food. I hadn't had that much yesterday, and was still pretty hungry. While eating, I tried to decide how to occupy myself until dark, but I knew that there was only one place I wanted to be. So, when I'd finished I headed to the elevators.

I went down one floor, and suppressing a shudder I approached the metal door leading into the Custody Suite. The guard on duty stopped me, and I showed him my AAA pass. He opened the door, and I turned to Matt. "Do you want to come in or wait for me out here? I'm gonna be a while."

"I have to stay with you. Sorry." At least he said sorry.

"OK. Come on, then." No point in arguing; if he was going to be my shadow, I didn't want to piss him off at this stage. Later on, who knows? I passed through the door and was back on the catwalk where that little snake Victor Madden had driven a pick-up truck clean through my future just over sixteen hours ago. Was that all? It was hard to believe. Strangely, I could hear music – zydeco. It was really surreal in that place. Who the hell would be playing Clifton Chenier in here? It echoed around as I hurried along the walkway, carefully not looking down. Eric might have been out of danger, but it was business as usual for all the other poor prisoners in there and I _so_ did not want to be reminded of what I had seen last night. I went down the stairs to the desk at the bottom and spoke to a young blond Were who had taken Jerry's place for the dayshift. He was the one listening to the radio, but he switched it off as we came down the steps and he nodded to Matt. I guess most of the Weres round here knew each other. Maybe they were part of the same pack?

"Hi, I'm Sookie Northman, and I just wanted to let you know I'll be up top there for a while."

He looked at me, puzzled, and said, "Up there? On the walkway? Why?"

I smiled, and said, "that's my husband in cell 18. He's asleep at the moment, so I'm just gonna keep him company for a bit. That's alright, isn't it?"

He was unsure, looking from me to Matt and back again. "Well, I guess so…but won't you be cold or anything? It's none too warm in here." He was right, of course; vamps don't require heating.

"No. I'll be fine, thanks." I looked at Matt, and I could tell from his mind that he'd rather be talking Were talk with his buddy than standing watching me doing sweet FA, so I said, "Matt, why don't you stay here, and chat with…" I looked at the blond enquiringly.

"Stefan."

"Hi Stefan, good to know you. Matt, you don't really need to be right next to me all the time, do you? I mean, you know the door's locked, so I'm not going anywhere. You stay here if you like."

"Yeah, okay." He agreed grudgingly, so I left him to it, and ran back up the stairs, while he seated himself on the bottom step.

I reached the catwalk, and leaned over the railing above Eric's cell. Then I composed myself and looked down. My heart lurched at the sight that met my eyes. My lover was at rest. The lidless coffin below me was slightly too small for him to stretch out full length on his back, as he preferred, so he was on his side, his knees slightly bent, his head pillowed on one hand, the other hand curled into a fist, resting against his chest. I could just see he that was holding something. He looked so peaceful, and I filled my mind with the sight, so that in the days to come I would have something to remember. He would never know I was there, but I stayed for over an hour, just watching him sleep, seeing the marks of his suffering slowly fading.

I wondered what time his court appearance would be, and that led onto another train of thought. They hadn't been able to find any clothes for him last night, but surely he wasn't going to go into court bare-ass naked? The case that I'd glimpsed with Victor yesterday, there was no nudity, I was sure. I would have remembered something like that.

I thought for a minute, and then went back down the stairs, to where Stefan and Matt were. They broke off their conversation as I arrived and Stefan smiled at me. Matt had been smiling, but it closed down when he saw me. Yup, I was definitely gonna have to do something about that; I couldn't be having such a tight-ass round me all the time.

I smiled at both of them, and then spoke to Stefan.

"Hey Stefan, can you tell me what happened to Mr Northman's clothes and stuff when he arrived here?"

"Anything he had would have been put in the custody locker, back there." He jerked his thumb at the door near his desk.

"Could I see his things, please?"

"Well, I don't know about that…I mean, cell 18 …that's RP Eight. I don't know who you are, or anything…" he looked at Matt for support.

"Do you have last night's log?" I knew there was no way all the comings and goings in this place weren't recorded somewhere.

"Yup, it's right here." He picked up his clipboard.

"Well, take a look at the entry for Northman for last night. Maximum security, right? No visitors?" I remembered the phrase Jerry had used.

He riffled the pages until he found the place he was looking for.

"Uh-huh…says here… well, I'll be…" his puzzlement was almost comic.

"Lots of visitors, huh?"

"Yeah…" He was still not sure, so I spelled it out for him.

"He had a load of visitors because he's no longer RP Eight. You can see, right there, Victor Madden himself came to see him. You know? The king's lieutenant? Look, there's his name, just below mine. _Right there_." I had to point to Victor's name on the list, even though it was in big bold capitals. Jeez Louise. This kid wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

At last daylight broke. "Oh, right," he said. He put the clipboard down and smiled, clearly satisfied that we had gotten somewhere. I could hardly believe it. He had forgotten why we were looking at the list in the first place! I gritted my teeth and counted to ten before repeating my request.

"So, Mr Northman's things…may I see them, please?"

"What? Oh, yeah, right."

He flipped a switch on the intercom and said, "Hey, Jude." (_Hey Jude?) _Can you bring me the bag from locker sixteen? No, sorry, locker eighteen." He hurriedly corrected himself when he saw the expression on my face. "That's great, thanks." He broke the connection and said, "He'll be right out."

"Thank you so much." There was a hint of 'we are not amused' in my voice as I thanked him, but I don't know if he picked up on it. I got the feeling it would take a jackhammer to get through to this guy.

Two minutes later another guard appeared through the door near Stefan's desk, and dumped a black plastic trashbag on the floor. I had a quick look through and picked out Eric's clothes. They looked like someone had been sleeping in them. Or possibly _on_ them. I looked up at Stefan and said,

"I'm gonna take these with me. Do I have to sign anything?"

"You can't just _take_ stuff!" this at least he was sure of.

"Look, it's only his clothes. I'm just going to get them cleaned and pressed and then I'll bring them right back, okay? I'm not gonna touch his money or his credit-cards or anything. Surely there's no harm in getting his suit pressed. He's in court tonight; he needs to look decent."

Finally he accepted I wasn't planning on doing a runner with Eric's Rolex, and agreed for me to take the suit. I asked, "Is there a dry-cleaners on-site?"

Surprisingly, Matt answered. "There's one near the canteen. I'll show you." I was surprised at his co-operation, but smiled and said thank you. I draped the crumpled suit and shirt over my arm and stuffed the necktie, handkerchief, boxers and socks into my pockets. Then I said goodbye to Stefan and ran back up the stairs followed by Matt.

I dropped Eric's things off at the drycleaners, paying for their best two-hour service, and then I made one or two small purchases in the stores located in the tiny mall, before spending some time wandering around the gardens. The way the building was laid out, in enclosed courtyards, meant that nearly every room had a garden view. I now saw that the main building didn't even begin to cover the area surrounded by the security wall; there was a whole heap of outlying smaller buildings, still all one-storey, with white walls and red tiled roofs. It looked real pretty, if you hadn't known what went on here. Some old poetry came into my mind. "Where every prospect pleases and only man is vile." Only it wasn't the men who were vile…

There were a lot of people about. This was definitely a workplace, and there was a constant to-ing and fro-ing along the gravelled main paths. Nobody commented on my presence; I guess Matt's presence reassured people that I was legit.

Leading off the main paths were lots of little winding ones, with open areas of lawns and shady trees, and loads of tropical vegetation. It was really nice, but there was the constant hiss of sprinklers, and I couldn't forget it was all artificial. Just the other side of the high wall, the desert began, and stretched for miles in all directions.

I wandered off down one of the paths and found a pretty little pool, with a couple of benches on the grass near the water. It was fringed with reeds or bamboos or some such, and there were big, fat, orange fish in the water. It was very peaceful, and I sat and soaked up the sun for a while. Then I realised that Matt was looking really uncomfortable. There were big sweat patches forming on his uniform shirt. Weres' body temperature runs a couple of degrees higher than humans, so I think he was way too hot. I felt a twinge of guilt. None of this was his fault; he was just doing his job, and although I would take all the sun I could get, I could tell he was suffering.

"Hey, Matt, are you okay?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm fine." He wasn't going to admit to anything. Not to a human. Macho idiot.

I stood up, and said, "I think we could both do with a cool drink, don't you?"

He didn't say anything, but his mind was reading relief. This was no day to be outside wearing a necktie.

We headed back to the canteen and I ordered an iced tea. Matt asked for a diet Coke, and we went out onto a kind of verandah area. I was amazed to see that it had _outdoor air con! _I hadn't even known that existed, but there was a kind of mist falling from the edge of the roof, and the temperature was a whole heap lower than out in the full sun.

We sat at a pretty little white-painted wrought-iron table and drank our iced drinks. Matt seemed to be cooling off some, and looked a shade more relaxed. He still wasn't exactly Mr Congenial, but at least some of the resentment in his mind had faded. I engaged him in a little friendly conversation. Boy, was he hard work! I tried every subject I could think of to catch his interest, and eventually, a passing reference to Alcide Herveaux made him prick up his ears (not really). He knew Alcide, Were packmaster of Shreveport, from way back. He'd run security on one of Herveaux & Son's biggest construction projects some years ago, and the images from his mind said that he respected him hugely.

I casually mentioned that I was a Friend of the Shreveport pack, (capital F definitely intended) and then changed the subject. Softly does it.

At just gone five o'clock I collected Eric's things and took them back to my room. Matt took up his station outside, and I hung up the beautifully cut suit on the back of the door, still in its plastic wrap. Then I got out my purchases from the drugstore. I had been lucky; they had carried Obsession, and I had bought a new bottle. Now I sprayed Eric's clean handkerchief with it, before folding it carefully, with the scented area inside to preserve it, and then tucking it into his inside pocket.

I had decided I wanted him to have a keepsake from me. I had bought a little pack of note-cards, but unfortunately they didn't have a lot of choice. I'd had to choose between golf, kittens or butterflies as a motif. None of it was exactly Eric. They didn't supply anything with a crest of two bats rampant on a background of dead Weres, which I think would have been his preferred choice. I opted for the butterflies. I got out my nail-scissors and went into the bathroom, where I snipped off a strand of my hair from underneath at the back. Then I braided it into a loop, and fixed it inside the card with some sticky tape. On the facing side, I was going to write a message, but that was the snag.

How did I get everything I wanted to say to him on a three-by-four card? There wasn't enough paper in the world to let him know how I felt about him. How could I sum up everything we meant to each other? I finally decided to just tell it like it is. Eric was a complicated man, but he appreciated simplicity. Devious himself, he liked directness in others, so in the end I wrote just four words.

Then I closed the little card and put it in the breast pocket. I didn't know when he'd find it, but I hoped he would think of me when he did.

I sat back and glanced at the clock. It was nearly six. I opened the door and picked up Matt before heading back to the canteen for a meal. This time, I chose a huge portion of steak tartare, knowing it was a particular favourite with a lot of Weres. I invited Matt to sit at my table, and ate about a quarter of the food, before making full-up noises and pushing the plate back. I saw him looking at it. I knew he hadn't eaten since I had awoken, and Weres tend to need a lot of protein and calories. Fast metabolism, I guess.

"Hey, Matt, can you do me a favour and help me finish this? I ordered way too much. Please? I feel rude sending it back. My eyes are bigger than my belly, I guess, huh?"

He hesitated a second, and then he nodded and pulled the plate over. Bingo! That man sure loved his food. His mind radiated satisfaction, and it took him barely twenty seconds to clean the plate, while I thanked him prettily for helping me out. OK. Food pushed his buttons, and then some. I remembered another of my Gran's sayings. 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.' I knew what she meant now, but when I was little it gave me a really weird idea of male anatomy. I smiled faintly, and then the smile hardened at my train of thought. Food might influence someone as relatively straightforward as Matt, but it would take something else to get through to Victor. As far as I was concerned the way to _his_ heart was straight through his rib-cage with two feet of sharpened oak. One day, one day…

I returned Eric's clothes to the Custody Suite. By now, Jerry was back on duty, and he was real mad that Stefan had let me take the suit away. I had wondered why they employed someone as dumb as Stefan, but Jerry mentioned that he was a trainee, and said he'd whip his ass for him. I figured they used him in the daytime because there was so little activity, and so not a lot for him to screw up. During the time I was on the catwalk Eric-watching, I hadn't seen a single soul. Most everything that happened there, happened after dark, when they had the more experienced guys on duty.

Jerry checked his clipboard for me, and told me that Eric's sentencing hearing was to be in Courtroom 4, and was set for 8.30pm. I asked him if he'd make sure Eric had the clean clothes, and he promised he would. I don't suppose it did my credibility any harm that he had seen me with both Victor Madden, the kings lieutenant and Mr Cataliades, the best-known demon in the state.

Then I went to stake out my seat in Courtroom 4. I took the mystery novel I'd bought in the drugstore, and tried to concentrate on the daring escapades of the impossibly handsome aristocrat-detective, but it was hard going. It seemed so wildly improbable, but then again, if I considered my own life, I would have written that down as wildly improbable a few short years ago.

The court session opened at eight o'clock, and was presided over by the king himself. All the vampires knelt when he entered and took his seat, his two lieutenants, Victor and Sandy, just behind him. I hadn't seen Felipe since I rescued him from Sigebert. He was a drop-dead gorgeous latino-lover type, who I would have gone for in a big way at one time, but these days my mind was filled with a vision of long blond hair, smiling blue eyes and a body to make Adonis jealous. I sat well to the front in the viewing-gallery, angled so I had a good view of the dock where Eric would be seated, and I yawned my way through the two cases before his. The king tried to look interested, but I got the feeling he found it pretty tedious as well.

Finally, the court usher called Eric's name, and I felt his nearness through the bond. He was brought into the court, accompanied by two very large Were guards. God, he was gorgeous. Although normally a T-shirt-and-jeans guy, he really knew how to wear clothes well. His hands were manacled in front of him but he had had a shower and he looked quite healthy and alert as he took his place in the dock. I feasted my eyes on him The skinhead look was still startling, but it gave his face a kind of focus, revealing his beautiful bone structure. The bruises and burns had faded and the cuts were almost completely gone. His skin colour was quite good, too. It was amazing what adequate nourishment and a good day's rest had done. He didn't look at me, but I know he felt me, because the bond leapt into life for a second before he clamped down on it, leaving only a hint of calm resignation. I wasn't hurt; I knew he did it because he couldn't afford any distractions at the moment. He really needed to focus.

The charges and the verdict were read out, and then the king turned to Eric. He promptly knelt and bowed his head. I sent him every iota of love and strength I had as the king pronounced sentence. It was as we had hoped; Exile, with confiscation of all assets. I hadn't known I was holding my breath until that moment; it could all still have gone so badly wrong at the last minute, but Victor knew which side his bread was buttered on. He was there of course, fully restored to his smug self, smirking with satisfaction at his enemy's fall, behind the king's back, but then he received a very nasty shock.

The king asked Mr Cataliades to supply a list of all Eric's property, and looked puzzled when the demon lawyer handed over a blank piece of paper.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked. "The court requires an inventory of the prisoner's assets."

Mr Cataliades bowed. "Your majesty, that paper represents the sum total of Mr Northman's possessions as of this date. I have here," he produced another document from his briefcase, "a deed of gift, signed by Mr Northman and witnessed by myself, transferring _everything_ (he stressed the word) he owns to his wife, Mrs Sookie Northman."

There was a short, shocked silence as everyone in the courtroom realised what had happened, and then it was broken by a huge roar of laughter from the kneeling prisoner. The bond burst into life and rich, glorious appreciation rolled down it. Eric knew exactly what I had done. The document I had persuaded him to sign yesterday had transferred to me the title of every single thing he owned, right down to his socks. I owned everything. This meant, of course, that there were no assets to confiscate from Eric.

As Eric continued to laugh I looked at Victor's face. It was a wonderful mixture of shock and rage. Of course, he had hoped that the king would give everything Eric owned to him, and he now saw it slipping through his fingers.

"Give me that paper," he snarled and snatched it with shaking fingers from the usher who brought it to him. He examined it closely, but Mr Cataliades knew his job. That was why he had so carefully witnessed it, with the time as well as the date. It clearly pre-dated our divorce and so was completely legal in any court, vampire or human. He grasped the paper as though he would like to tear it in pieces, but the eyes of everyone in the room were on him, and at last he had to give it back and sit down, scowling.

Even the king's lips twitched slightly as he turned to Eric who had by now stopped laughing but still had a broad grin on his face. Vampires appreciate deviousness in all its forms. I suspected that the king thought the lawyer had come up with that idea, but it was all mine.

The king asked Eric where he intended to go, and Eric sobered up and said, "Sweden, sire." When the king asked why, Eric said that it was because the Swedish were sympathetic to vampires, and had similar legislation to the USA protecting vampire rights. The king nodded, and ordered the court clerk to arrange a ticket on the next available Anubis flight to Stockholm. Then Eric was hauled to his feet and led away. He did not look in my direction throughout the whole proceedings but, as he left the court, he raised his chained hands to his face and appeared to be inhaling something. I got the message. He would remember me.


	7. Chapter 7

**This is quite a short chapter, as it's just a transition one really. Not a lot happening; just tidying up a few loose ends. Sorry, but as I said, it's been a tough week work-wise and I haven't had a whole lot of time. I am already working on the next one, and the following ones, though, and should be able to post at least two more later this week. Thanks for your patience.**

Chapter 7

Eric's case was the last one on the list, so the king stood to leave, and all the vamps fell to their knees again. Apart from Felipe (and Eric) they had all remained standing throughout the evening. It looked really weird; Felipe stood up, they knelt; Felipe sat down, they stood up. Must be a vampire thing. Matt and I left the courtroom and I headed for the elevator. I needed a minute to myself. Matt had the sense (or possibly the decency) not to speak to me, which I was grateful for; I wasn't in the mood to be nice. Once I was safely back in my room I sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. It was weird. I felt as though I'd been fighting so hard to get to this point, and now I'd got here, I suddenly realised this wasn't the end; it was just the beginning. I suppose you could call it the end of part one.

I pulled myself together and considered my next move. I reached for my phone. I decided that the minute I had completed the formalities and signed the contract, I was out of there. I called the airline and booked a seat on the next flight out to Shreveport. As I completed the call, there was a knock on my door and Mr C was there. I could see Matt behind him, so I invited the lawyer in. I didn't want the Were hearing our conversation.

"Congratulations, my dear," the lawyer said in a low voice. "The best result we could have hoped for under the circumstances."

"Yeah, I guess." I wasn't ecstatic.

He raised his eyebrows, looking a little surprised at my reaction. "You are in an infinitely better position than you were at this time yesterday," he reminded me."

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'm just feeling a tad sorry for myself right now." I smiled weakly.

"That's understandable, I'm sure, but try to bear in mind that we now have an effectively clean slate. Mr Northman is safe, and you will have a great many opportunities for gathering information that might help establish his innocence. The most important advantage you have is that you can operate during the day, when there is no possibility of any vampire detecting you. Why, you could search Victor Madden's day-chamber with him in the room, and he would be quite unable to stop you."

"True. And I've got you on my side." I felt a bit better.

"You certainly have, my dear. I will do everything in my power to help you. Meanwhile, the king has concluded his court business for the evening, and wishes to speak with you."

"The king?" I was alarmed. I had never faced the king without Eric. I suddenly wasn't sure if I could do this.

"Yes, he wishes to discuss your contract of employment. Now come along, it doesn't do to keep royalty waiting; particularly vampire royalty."

I grabbed my purse and hurried after my lawyer, who escorted me to the elevator, Matt bringing up the rear. The far left one was already open, and there was a Were guard inside it, with a drawn weapon. Apparently, only a few of the elevators went all the way to Level Five, and they were all guarded. Mr C stood back for me to enter, then followed me in and nodded to the guard, who slid his keycard into the slot and the doors closed.

When we came out on Level Five, I gasped. It was like a whole different world down there. Footsteps were hushed in thick pile carpeting and fabulous paintings glowed on the snow-white walls. I'd bet they were originals. The lighting was subdued and everything just reeked of money, but money with real good taste. Mr Cataliades guided me to the right, through the wide corridors until eventually he stopped outside a pair of double doors that must have been twelve feet high, all in white and gold. There were two Weres on guard, and my guide spoke to one of them.

"Mrs Northman for his majesty. She is expected."

The guard knocked on the door and went inside, closing it again after him. The other one stared at me silently. He was practically drooling, as though he was looking at a hundred and sixteen pounds of fillet steak. Okay, a hundred and twenty five pounds. A girl can dream… A minute later the first guy came back and held the door open for us to pass through. He pulled it shut behind us and then we were in the presence of the king.

Felipe was sitting on a gold brocade couch, and standing behind him were Sandy and dear Victor. I smiled at Sandy and then fixed my attention on the king. Victor I ignored completely. He didn't even register on my radar. On the low table in front of the king were two copies of what was clearly my contract.

"Come in, my dear," he said. "I am so pleased to see you. It has been too long." His tone was that of a pleasant social call, but the eyes were watchful. He wasn't sure how I was going to react after having just seen him sentence my husband to permanent exile.

I gave an awkward sort of half-bob and nodded my head. There was no way I was going to be bowing and scraping and such. "Sir."

"I am delighted that you have agreed to accept my offer of employment. I am sure that you will find the work here a lot more congenial than serving drinks for a shifter in a bar." He was trying to disguise the contempt he felt for Sam, my boss, but it was coming across loud and clear. Vamps despised all shape-shifters, regarding them as complete low-lives, but I wasn't about to sit back and let him badmouth my friends. Start as you mean to go on, Sook. Give these guys an inch and they'd take the whole friggin' nine yards.

"Sam Merlotte is a good friend of mine, sir, and I always enjoyed working for him. I'm going to be real sorry to leave him. As I recall, he was quite a good friend to you too." I looked the king straight in the eye as I said that, reminding him that Sam had helped free him when he had allowed a renegade vampire to chain him with silver – a somewhat embarrassing episode for a vampire of his age and experience. He had the grace to look slightly self-conscious.

"Of course, of course. And now, perhaps you would care to look over the contract and we can attend to any final details." He gestured to the documents on the low table, but I didn't touch them. I stood completely still and waited for my lawyer to pick one copy up. I stood silently, watching the king, as Mr C worked his way through the closely-typed pages. I kept my face completely blank and remained as motionless as I possibly could. Eric had explained to me that vampires pick up really quickly on the tiniest movements and facial expressions which humans display, and they're real good at reading them. I didn't want to give Felipe a single clue as to how I was feeling, and I knew I was good at stonewalling. Eric had once threatened to resort to torture in order to find out if I was telling the truth, because he couldn't read it from my face. It had pissed him off, but it had also impressed him. Well, right now I wanted to impress the hell out of Felipe, and I didn't really care if I pissed him off. If I was going to be working for him, I wanted his respect (or as much respect as a vampire would ever have for a human). I had to be able to survive here; I knew they would pounce on weakness like a cougar on a jackrabbit.

At last Mr Cataliades looked up and said, "that seems to be in order. Mrs Northman, may I draw your attention to paragraphs nine and ten?"

I looked over his shoulder, and read the sections he was pointing out. Although I had taken his advice on a clause about no draining, turning or attempting a blood-bond, I had forgotten to specify protection from the most basic vampire needs – blood and sex. He had not. Paragraphs nine and ten made it quite clear that any attempt to feed from me or sexually harass me would be met with serious penalties. Thank goodness for Mr C. He was really looking out for my interests. I smiled my thanks at him, and then indicated that I was satisfied with the terms of the contract and was ready to sign.

I moved over to a beautiful roll-top desk against one of the walls and sat down at it, but then I felt an immediate change in the atmosphere of the room. All three of the vamps had stiffened slightly.

"What?" I said, looking round.

Sandy answered me. "We do not sit in the presence of the king," she said bluntly.

"What, never?" I asked.

"No." Her tone of voice left no room for argument. She thought.

"Well, maybe we need to include an extra paragraph in my contract," I said, "because if you want me to function at my best, I am going to need to be able to sit down if I want to. And incidentally, I'm also going to need human food. I'm human and I don't have your stamina."

Both Victor and Sandy looked uncomfortable, but Felipe said, "I quite understand, and there will be no problem. "We will make every allowance for you. You must realise, Miss Stackhouse…" I interrupted respectfully, but instantly.

"Mrs Northman, if you don't mind, your majesty."

A slight flash of annoyance, quickly covered. "Of course. You must realise, Mrs Northman, that we have never employed a human in so…strategic a position before. You are, in fact, the _only_ human in my immediate retinue, and I imagine adjustments will have to be made on both sides. Please bear with us. Naturally you have my permission to be seated in my presence, and human food will be provided for you whenever you require it. Victor, Sandy, make sure that the other members of court know this. I should not wish to see Mrs Northman embarrassed or made the subject of adverse comment. And now, perhaps, if you have no further points to discuss, you would care to sign the contract?"

I glanced at my lawyer, and he nodded. If he thought it was okay, I was willing to trust him, so I nodded too. The king relaxed, and glanced at Victor and Sandy who also kind of eased off. I took a deep breath. I knew once I signed this, I was committed. There was no going back. That was kind of scary, but I'd come this far; I couldn't let Eric down at the last minute. Then a mischievous thought struck me.

"Of course, your majesty. I would be happy to sign the contract." I turned to Victor and smiled sweetly. "Mr Madden, do you have a pen I could borrow?"

I swear from the expression on his face I thought he was going to have a coronary. The king and Sandy looked at him in astonishment as he glared at me, but he could not possibly refuse such an innocent and reasonable request without explaining why, and eventually he pulled himself together and handed me a plain gold fountain pen.

I thanked him and considered admiring it and then dropping it, but decided that would just be over-egging the cake. I didn't want to push him too far just yet, so I accepted the pen, signed twice on the dotted lines and then Mr C carried the contracts over to the king for his signature. He signed both copies with his own pen, and then sat back, looking very pleased with himself, as well he might. He had just acquired the best telepath in America (in fact, I was one of only two that I was aware of; the other one was Barry, who worked for the king of Texas, but he had always denied his abilities, and hadn't learned to develop his skills, so was nowhere near as advanced as I was, though I do say so myself).

"And now, your majesty, may we have permission to withdraw? Mrs Northman wishes to set preparations for her permanent residence here in train as soon as possible. She has a seat booked on a flight to Shreveport in just over an hour."

Felipe looked startled. "So soon? Is that really necessary? There is much for you to do here."

I decided it was time to tell it like it is. I didn't want Felipe thinking that I couldn't speak up for myself. Eric had always handled any dealings with the king, and now Mr C was doing the same thing. I had to let him know that I didn't have to hide behind the guys.

I said, "There is much to do in Bon Temps as well, your majesty, and the sooner I go, the sooner I can be back," That was so unarguable that he couldn't really say anything else, so he gave in gracefully

"Very well. We will look forward to your return in one week. Sandy, order a car to take Mrs Northman to the airport. While you are gone, I will have a suite of rooms prepared for you. Do you have any preferences for a colour scheme, any particular needs?"

Now it was my turn to be startled. I hadn't realised I rated a suite. "Oh. Thank you, sir. Well, I'd like a yellow and white bedroom if that's okay," I said.

"Certainly, my dear. Anything you desire. I want you to be happy." He smiled, showing his excellent white teeth. "And now, if you will excuse me…"

We were dismissed. Mr C bowed and I did that strange bob thing again. I was really going to have to learn how to do it properly. Maybe Pam could teach me. But then, she always knelt to Eric or her other superiors. Still, she must have learned how to curtsey when she was a girl. I'd talk to her about it. After we had discussed one or two other things. Then we left the royal presence, and headed back to the elevator.

Once back upstairs, I completed my last bits of packing, and said goodbye to Mr Cataliades. He said he'd be at Bon Temps in two days, but he had to stay to handle the details of Eric's release and then tidy up the last of his Assizes business. I really wished he was coming with me right now. I was not looking forward to my return one little bit. I went down to reception and said hello to Paul, who seemed really pleased to see me. I thanked him for his help the previous night and we chatted while I waited for my car. He was studying computer technology at college, and seemed to be getting good grades, so he was happy.

The car, when it arrived, was a limo like the one I'd arrived in the previous night, but with a different driver. He carried out my bags and opened the door for me to get in, saying "where to, ma'am?" I told him the airport and as I settled back on the soft leather seats I reflected that there were certain aspects of working for Felipe that I could probably get used to.

As we rolled out onto the highway, I looked back, wondering what Eric was doing right now. I wished I could send him a text, but I didn't know if he had got his phone back from Victor, and I there was no way I was going to risk sending loving messages to that creep. I couldn't feel anything through the bond, so I guessed he must still be in the Custody Suite. I hoped they gave him all his stuff back. There hadn't been a lot in that trash-bag, but I guess the rest of the luggage he'd brought for his month's stay would be returned for him to take to Sweden. It didn't seem a lot. I suddenly wondered for the first time what he would do when he stepped off the plane in Stockholm. Where would he go? Would his credit cards still function? Did he even have enough money to find a vampire-friendly hotel for the day? Sookie, you idiot! Why didn't you think of this sooner? I grabbed my phone and put in a call to Mr C. I told him my fears, and he promised that he would have a courier meet Eric to make sure he was ok. I told him to make good and sure that the courier was briefed to see that Eric had access to everything he needed, like all his bank accounts. Then I heaved a sigh of relief. I really dodged a bullet there.

We arrived at the airport with just enough time to spare, and I checked in and took my luggage from the driver. I smiled and thanked him (remember your manners, Sookie – you may need this guy some day!) and went straight to the plane. I fastened my seatbelt and closed my eyes, hoping to sleep through as much of the next nine hours as possible. Heaven knows I could use it. I'd be getting into Shreveport at about 8.30am, which would give me most of the day to talk to Sam and Jason (I really wasn't looking forward to either of those conversations) and take a break before heading to Fangtasia in the evening to see Pam. I was looking forward to that conversation even less, and I was really tempted to tell her over the phone, but that would have been cowardly, and Stackhouse women were not cowards. My Gran had always taught me that bad news should be given in person if at all possible; it was the courteous thing to do.

I intended to leave making any arrangements for my move until the following day. I had a feeling it was going to be even worse than when my Gran died. I'd had to clear out a whole lot of her things, and it had been so hard. All those memories of her. I'd felt like I was throwing out the history of my home, it's past. But this time, it was going to be _my _past I was clearing out. That was going to be tough, when I was so unsure of what the future held. One thing I was sure of, though. Somehow, my future _was_ going to include Eric.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The taxicab crunched up my long gravel drive (don't think about who got it fixed for you! _Don't!) _and pulled up outside my house. As I got out and paid the driver, I reflected that that was already one hell of a change in my circumstances; I would never have taken a taxi all the way from Shreveport before, but now my new salary meant I could afford it, which was just as well, because there was no way I was calling Sam or Jason to ask for a ride. I lugged my cases round to the back porch (where's a uniformed chauffeur when you need one?) and was surprised to see Amelia's car round back. How long had she been here? Had she told me she was coming?

I hurried up the steps into the porch, then in through the kitchen and called out her name. Footsteps came down the stairs, and there she was, looking really good in a pale green silk T-shirt and cream pants. She grinned and said, "Hey Sook, fancy a roomie for a few days? I just got in last night; where were you? I called Sam and he couldn't or wouldn't tell me. Just said you were out of town. How you been doing, girl?" She paused and had a good look at me. I know I was crumpled and travel-stained, but that didn't explain the concerned expression on her face. "Sookie? What's wrong? Girl, you look awful. Here, come on in and sit down."

I know I'd sworn to myself that I was going to be strong, and mature, and scary Sookie and all, but she was my best friend and one of the very few people who actually cared about me, and the worry in her voice as she put her arm round my shoulders was just too much.

"It…it's Eric…!" and then I was sobbing my heart out in her arms.

She led me to the couch and made me sit down, taking off my shoes and passing me kleenex after kleenex as I just howled with misery and self-pity. She held me and patted my arm until I was quieter, and then she said,

"What has that arrogant bastard done? Has he dumped you? Because if he has, I am gonna spell him so hard he'll think Hallow was a Sunday School teacher compared to me! I'll get Octavia right on it." She reached for her phone, and I stopped her.

"No…it's not that…Eric hasn't done anything. But he's…he's…" I could barely continue and just the thought of my beautiful Viking set me off again. Every question she asked me, I could only shake my head and sob harder. She sat back with an expression of mingled worry and exasperation, until eventually I was able to give her a reasonably coherent explanation. She was horrified, and when I was done she went into such a rant about Victor that I stared at her open-mouthed. I was really surprised and more than a little impressed at her imagination and the extent of her vocabulary. Not a single word she used appeared on my calendar, and as far as I could tell she didn't repeat herself once.

At last she ran out of steam (and nouns), and sat back on the couch, looking at me.

"Girl, we have got to get you out of this contract. You're gonna die if you go back there!"

"There's no way out. It's iron-clad. I either work for Felipe or Eric dies." Her expression was very clear, and her thoughts were even clearer. "No, Amelia, that would _not_ be the best thing all round! I love him and I'm gonna clear his name! Now, are you gonna help me, or am I gonna have to do it all by my lonesome?" Her face softened.

"Of course I'll help you, Sookie. I don't know what Mr Big, Blond and Bad-ass has done to make you love him this way, but he does _not_ deserve it, I'll tell you that much! Now, what is our first move? Go to Vegas and beat the crap out of Victor?"

"Nice thought, but I've got a whole lot of stuff to do before I have to go back. I've got a week to talk to Sam and quit my job, tell Jason what's going on, put the house on the market, move all my bank accounts, I've got to tell Pam what's happened to Eric, and then I've got to see to all his property as well, and…oh hell, I don't even know where to start!" I started to tear up again at the prospect of all the work that faced me, and Amelia patted my arm.

"The first thing _you_ are going to do is go to bed for a couple of hours," she said. "I'll phone Jason and ask him to come to Merlotte's for his lunch, and then you can deal with him and Sam at the same time. I'll come with you and see they don't give you a hard time. Sam won't cut up rough about you quitting if I take over your shifts. You know I've done it before."

That was true. And a thought just struck me.

"Amelia, what are you doing here anyway? Not that I mind, it's great to see you, but I thought you were doing some training with Octavia."

"My Dad was being an asshole again, and it was either get out of New Orleans or say something I'd regret." She grinned ruefully, "Well, I probably wouldn't regret it, but I should."

"What was the problem? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"Ah, you know what he's like. Keeps trying to run my life for me. I wish to hell he would realise I'm a grown woman and…hey, now just a minute, we're not discussing _me_ right now. _You_ are going straight to bed and _I_ am going to call Sam and Jason. No arguments, Sookie, get on into that bedroom. Go on now!"

She practically drove me down the passage to my room and undressed me and tucked me in like I was four years old, before promising to call me at one o'clock and then heading for the phone in the kitchen. I think Amelia must have a strong maternal streak, which she keeps well hidden most of the time. It usually only shows up in her insane cleaning habits. Not that I have any objection to a clean house, but I'd swear she polishes the wire coathangers!

She was kind of right, this time, though. I was exhausted. It had been a tough couple of days, and then some! I could hear her voice on the phone, and I snuggled down and closed my eyes, knowing that, for at least a couple of hours, someone was watching my back. It was a good feeling.

I woke at just before one o'clock and sat up, wondering where I was for a second. Then I looked round at my familiar bedroom, that had once been my Gran's, and I was overtaken by a whole bag of mixed emotions. It felt good to be back home, but I knew it wouldn't be home for much longer and that didn't feel good at all.

I climbed out of bed and trotted through to the bathroom for a shower. I ran the water really hot and then a quick blast of cold, and that woke me up real good. Then I dried off and was just pulling on some jeans and a warm red sweater when Amelia knocked the door, carrying a mug of coffee.

"I thought I heard you up and about. How do you feel Sook?" she asked.

"Better." I smiled some as I took the coffee and drank it down. I had got an awful lot out of my system, earlier; that knot of tension in my stomach that I hadn't even realised was there had melted away, and now I felt I could face Sam and my brother. I dried my hair and put it up in a pony tail before we both got into her car (she refused to be seen dead in mine, saying that was the problem – sooner or later she _would_ probably end up dead in it!) and we headed for Merlotte's.

The customer car park was almost empty when we got there, which was a bad sign for Sam, but a good sign for me, as he wouldn't be too busy to talk to me. Jason's pick-up was there, though, dwarfing what other cars there were. I swear, the love he lavished on that machine; he paid it more attention than he did his women. Mind you, he only had the one truck, and you certainly couldn't say that about his "relationships". If you could call 'em that. To him, "faithful" was what a clown got from a custard pie. The best way to describe my darling bro is to say he was a real hard dog to keep on the porch.

Amelia and I went inside and looked around. Jason saw us at once and waved. Sam must have been in his office, because there was only Holly and the new girl Naomi visible. Thank goodness my ex-best friend Arlene wasn't in, and neither were her FOTS cronies. I could do without them right now. We went across and sat with Jason. He was wrapping himself round a burger and fries with everything. It's a good job his work is so physically demanding; the amount of crap he eats he would be as fat as a pig otherwise, but he just burns it all off.

"Hey, sis, Amelia," he mumbled through a mouthful of burger. We both looked away. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Hey Jason. Have you seen Sam? He's meant to be meeting us here."

"He's out back. A delivery came and he's inventorying. He said to call him when you got here."

"I'll go," said Amelia and she went through the door leading to Sam's office. I slid into the booth opposite Jason. We chatted, kind of awkwardly. We didn't say anything important; me because I was waiting for Sam, and him because things were still kind of weird between us after the whole Crystal thing. He'd behaved really badly, and he knew it, but he wasn't going to admit it. Not to his baby sister.

"How's things, Jason?"

"Good. Real good."

"You seeing anybody right now?" It was a fairly safe bet the answer was yes, but he looked offended.

"Can't you even remember her name?"

"Jason, your girlfriends are like the goldfish we used to win from the carnival; they don't last long enough to bother giving 'em names."

He grinned sheepishly and bit another huge chunk out of his burger. Ick. Gran had tried to teach him that once food goes past your lips that should be the last time anybody sees it, but the lesson didn't seem to have stuck. Just then Sam and Amelia came back. I think she must have been giving him a heads-up because he looked concerned, and just nodded to Jason before sitting down by him and looking at me silently. Amelia sat next to me, and squeezed my hand. I took a deep breath.

"Thanks for meeting me here, guys. Jase, I know you're on your lunch break so I won't take long." Then I just told them the story, straight from the shoulder. Couldn't candy-coat it even if I wanted to. Their eyes got bigger and bigger and Jason even stopped eating. When I'd finished, there was silence for a couple seconds, and then Jason said, "Leave Bon Temps to work for a bunch of vamps! Sookie, are you crazy? What'm I going to tell people round here when they ask where you gone? How am I gonna look, telling folks 'my sister's off in Vegas working for the vampire king?' You know what they're gonna think? They're gonna think crazy Sookie's finally lost it. And dammit if I don't think they're just about in the right of it!"

He was shouting by the end, getting real worked up, and I was all ready to shout right back at him, when Amelia suddenly jumped in, and said, "Jason Stackhouse, you dumb mother-f****r, you apologise to your sister for what you just said, or I am going to put a spell on you that'll make your dick limp for a year! Go on now, you apologise or I'll do it! I swear I will!" She looked so fierce that Jason went pale under his tan and stared at her wide-eyed. Even though I was real upset by what he'd just said, I couldn't help but find it funny. Amelia had hit him exactly where it would hurt the most.

Then he dropped his eyes, and muttered something that I could take for an apology if I wanted to. I decided I would.

Just then, Sam thumped the table, making all the pepper-pots and such jump, and said, "Dammit, cher, this is what I was afraid of! I've told you all along you get mixed up in that bloodsucker shit and sooner or later you won't be able to back out of it! I told you! Didn't I tell you?"

"Yes, you did, Sam, and I surely hope you're having fun saying I told you so, because that's about all the fun there is to get out of this situation. Now, have you done, or have you got anything constructive to say?" He paused for a minute, slightly shocked, and then lowered his voice, and said,

"I'm sorry, Sook. What can we do to help?"

"Thank you Sam, but there's nothing to do. This is the way it is. I love Eric, and if that means helping him any way I can, then _that's what it means!_ I've made my choices and now I'm gonna live with them. I came here to tell you I'm leaving, not because I want to but because I have to. Wouldn't you do as much for someone _you_ loved?" I looked him right in the eyes, knowing that what I'd just said was unfair and mean, but it got through to him. I'd known for years how he felt about me, and I was sorry I couldn't return his feelings, but it's not something you can order up, like a plate of fries. He just wasn't the one for me, and I knew it. I think he did too, at the bottom of his heart. I continued, "Amelia's said she can take over my shifts until you can get a permanent replacement. I'm sorry to do this to you, Sam, but I don't have a choice. Please tell me you understand. Please." I reached across the table and put my hand on his, squeezing his fingers in an effort to show him how much I cared about him, because I did care. As a friend.

After a minute, he smiled wryly and said. "OK, Sookie, I understand. You do whatever you have to. Just remember that if you need anything you can call me anytime."

"Thanks Sam." I looked at Jason, to see if any of this had registered with him. Look and learn, Jason. This is how grown-ups behave. See if you can figure out what Sam's doing right that you're doing wrong. He said,

"Uh, yeah, sis, if you need any help with, like, moving stuff to the airport or anything, you let me know, you hear?" He glanced at his watch, pretending to be anxious about overstaying his lunch-break (as if that had _ever _mattered to him before!). "Gotta go. You stay in touch, now." A quick kiss on the cheek and he was gone, his pick-up tires churning up the gravel in Sam's parking-lot as he sped back to wherever his road crew was working today. So that was it. I might never see my brother again. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but right now, with all the other emotions I was dealing with, that one wasn't at the top of my list. Hell, I'm not even sure it made it _onto_ the list! I turned back to Sam.

"Gotta be going, Sam. I've got a lot to do, but I'll call in to say goodbye before I leave."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise." We all stood up and I kissed his cheek. He wasn't very tall, so we were almost on a level. He didn't have to bend down to kiss me like…whoops! Don't go there, Sookie!

"C'mon, Amelia. Bye, Sam." I waved goodbye to Holly, smiled at the new girl, and then we were out of there. Two items off the list.

Back in the car, Amelia said, "where to now?"

"Realtors in town, I guess. I've gotta get the house on the market."

Amelia said, "You know, Sookie, I've been thinking about that. How would you feel if I took it over? Just on a rental basis?"

I stared. "You? Why would you want it? You've only just re-furbed your place in New Orleans, why would you want to start all over again with a rundown place like mine?"

She smiled. "I wouldn't want to do that, Sookie. It's just, I really feel I need a bolt-hole where I can get away from you-know-who, and I was really happy when I stayed here before. I love your old place, and I wouldn't do a thing to it, except maybe upgrade the central heating and put in some decent security. I'd keep your room just as it is, and you could come and stay whenever you wanted. What do you say? Surely it's better than a stranger taking it over and dumping all your furniture and stuff. Will you let me have it? I'll pay you the market rate."

Well, that was just about the perfect solution! I would never have thought of that – Amelia is an upmarket kind of a person, even if she does like to pretend otherwise. The notion that she'd be content crashing out on with all my old furniture and stuff was bizarre, but she certainly sounded like she meant it.

"Are you sure, honey? I mean, it's not in the best condition apart from the kitchen."

"I don't care. I was really happy here until …you know…and I'm sure I could be again. I have a lot of good memories of your place." she was referring to when her boyfriend Tray got killed during the Fae War. It had broken her up, and I was surprised that she had ever forgiven me, as it would be easy to see it as my fault, but she didn't seem to look at it that way.

"Well, if you really mean it, I'd be happy to have you as a tenant."

"And I'd be happy to have you as my landlord. As long as you don't keep hassling me for the rent!" she smiled, and I was suddenly really grateful to her. I leaned over and we hugged, and then she started the car and we drove back to what was now her home as well. That felt really good. I hadn't thought about it before, but I'm not sure how I would have handled this week if I'd been on my own.

Anyway, next step was to go through the house and decide what I was going to take to Vegas with me. I had no idea how much space I would have, so I decided to settle for just my clothes and smaller personal items, like photograph albums and souvenirs. Bigger personal things could be stored up in the attic. I spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through my bedroom and the closets in the living room, making decisions. Amelia helped me wrap and pack everything in cartons that I had stacked up in the attic and I was able to forget my problems for a short time.

But then I saw the shadows creeping across the wall, and I glanced out of the window, and the sun was going down in a mass of purple and black clouds. I knew Fangtasia would soon be open, and then it would be time for my interview with a vampire.

In contrast to Merlotte's, the car park at Fangtasia was full. I drove round the back and parked in Eric's space. Hey, he wouldn't be using it. His Corvette was garaged at his Shreveport home. It had grown fully dark as I drove, but I couldn't feel him through the bond. I didn't know if this meant he was resting, or too far away, or what. I had no idea of the time difference between here and Sweden, or even where he was on his journey from Vegas to Stockholm. This was something I was going to have to get a handle on.

I went round the front and in through the main doors. There was quite a queue waiting for admittance, and as I went straight to the head of the line I could hear them wondering how come I got to cut in like that. I blocked it out, and smiled at the vamp on duty and asked for Pam. He said she was in the office, and nodded me through and I made my way through the tables and past the booths to the door at the back where Eric's office lay. As I squeezed through the crowds I glanced over at the stage where Eric usually sprawled on his throne, smouldering at the tourists, and it looked strangely empty and forlorn. But I knew it was just my imagination.

I came to the office, where Pam would be working, took a deep breath, knocked and then opened the door.

Pam was seated at the desk with an open ledger in front of her. She was a very beautiful woman, apparently in her early twenties, with long blond hair, which at the moment was held back with an Alice band. She was the nearest thing to a friend I had in the vamp community, although I didn't know how much I could rely on that with what I was about to tell her. Tonight she was wearing a pale blue angora sweater with darker blue pants, so she clearly wasn't intending to go on the floor. When she did Eric insisted she looked the part, and then she wore black in all sorts of mind-blowing combinations, but her personal preference was for pastels. She looked up and said, "Sookie. Is all well with the master?"

Typical. Okay, he was her maker, but she could at least have managed a "hi, how are you."

"Nice to see you too, Pam. I'm fine, thanks for asking." My tone was pretty snippy. Big mistake. She was instantly on her feet, fangs down. Shit. Although I had seen Pam in scary mode before, it had never been directed at me. It was like looking at something really lovely that suddenly turned out to be unexpectedly deadly, like a man-eating gazelle. Her voice was cold as she hissed, "do not toy with me, human. I am not in the mood. I have been feeling very bad things through the bond in the last few days. Now tell me, _is all well with Eric?"_

I sat down on the big leather couch. "I'm afraid not, Pam."

"I knew it. Tell me." She sat back down behind the desk and fixed me with an unblinking gaze.

I took a deep breath and plunged into the story for the second time today. I put a lot more detail into this one, as she was so much more familiar with vampire culture and the players involved in this little slice of melodrama.

She remained calm until I told her about Eric's incarceration and torture, and then she could no longer restrain herself. She was on her feet, snarling, desperate to do something, _anything¸_ to relieve her feelings. There was a crate of TrueBlood behind her chair, and she snatched it up and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered with a very satisfying crash. It was followed by the chair she had been sitting in, and the next instant I was alone. She was out of the door and down the corridor, and I could hear her yelling at the customers.

"Out! Get Out! We are closing! Leave now or die, you scum! GET OUT!"

I could hear screams and yelling and the sound of furniture breaking and glassware shattering as Pam drove everyone from the place. I followed cautiously to the door of the passageway, and when I dared peep in I could see the other vamps staring at her and at each other as she rampaged round the room. She had torn one of the red leather bench seats from a booth and was using it as a kind of snowplow-type thing, just pushing the punters ahead of her to the doors. She ran the last of them out, slammed the doors behind them and then turned back, facing the gaping staff members. "What are you staring at? Didn't you hear me? We are closed for tonight! Get out all of you! Go!" They didn't need telling twice. They just dropped what they were doing and were gone with vampire speed, and then it was just Pam and me, facing each other across the wrecked room. The DJ had left so fast the disk was still playing; It was _Night_ by Disturbed.

She walked deliberately across to the DJ's sound system and equally deliberately put her fist straight through it. The sound stopped, and then she turned back to me. She seemed icily calm now. She went to an undamaged booth and sat down, beckoning me to join her.

"Continue." She was never one to waste words. I told her everything I knew and then sat back and waited for her reaction. She remained motionless and silent for at least five minutes. Her eyes were fixed on the middle distance, and she was clearly processing. Then her gaze focussed back on me.

"Is Eric now in Sweden?"

"I'm not sure, I don't know how the flights worked out, but he's probably at least on his way by now. Mr Cataliades was going to oversee the arrangements."

"So he is safe for the moment, as far as you know."

"Yes."

"Then we must begin work. What are your plans for the master's business interests?"

"I was just planning on keeping them intact until he can come home again."

"No, we must do more than that with them. As they are now under your control, we shall use them to help Eric and undermine Victor. You say Cataliades is coming tomorrow?"

"So he said."

"Call him and have him meet us here tomorrow night. There is much to be done. Meanwhile I shall go to the master's house and secure it. I have a set of keys."

"Pam…"

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry about all this…" She just looked at me without speaking.

I swallowed and said, "I know that Eric's in this mess because of me. If Victor and the king hadn't wanted to get to me, they wouldn't have gone after Eric."

She shook her head. "Untrue. Victor has wanted Eric's area ever since the takeover. You are simply the lever he has chosen to get Eric out of his way. There were other means he could have used, but your talent is a bonus. Securing your services will earn him favour with Felipe."

"Don't you blame me, then?"

"Even if I did, you are Eric's chosen. He is my master and I honour his decisions. He would protect you with his life, and therefore I am bound to do the same. I am gratified that you appear to have some sense of honour yourself, in that you have not abandoned him, but are prepared to fight for him. Between us, we will see him safe home, and Victor Madden consigned to the lowest pits of hell. Now go, and return at sunset tomorrow. I must have time to think."

"Pam…"

"Go!" She turned away from me, and I stood up and left without another word.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next afternoon, saw me at the airport anxiously waiting for Mr C to come through the arrivals gate. When I finally saw his six-foot frame I was just so relieved that I forgot my manners completely; instead of saying hi, how are you, I burst out with, "Have you seen Eric? Has he recovered? Is he ok?"

He smiled, and said, "taking your questions in order, yes I have seen him, yes he is fully healed and yes he is as ok as you can expect him to be. He has sent you a gift." I looked at his hands, as though expecting him to have it right there.

"Where is it? Can I have it?" I must have sounded like a six-year-old, but I didn't care.

"It's in my case. I saw him onto the flight for Stockholm yesterday, and I have received a text from my courier saying that he has arrived safely. Sweden is nine hours ahead of us, so the time over there is about midnight. He will be awake. Can you feel anything through your blood-bond?"

I stopped and concentrated for a minute. If I focussed real hard I thought I could just pick up a faint echo of a presence in my mind. The distance was too big for anything more, but I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, right there in the middle of the airport, and I sent him love and reassurance with everything I had in me. I don't know if he got anything, but there were tears in my eyes when I opened them again.

The lawyer looked at me with real compassion, and opening his briefcase he handed me a small red box and a card in an envelope. I turned them over in my hands, and in spite of my earlier impatience, I found I didn't want to open them. Not here, not in the middle of the crowds and noise and heat. I wanted to be on my own, in the cool and quiet, when I looked at my love's last gift to me.

I smiled shakily at Mr C and put them in my purse, before saying, "Come on, let's get you checked into a hotel. Pam's expecting us at Fangtasia at sundown, so we've got a few hours to kill."

"How did Miss Ravenscroft take the news?"

I blew out my cheeks. "Well, Fangtasia's still standing, nobody was killed, and I wasn't drained. I think that's about as good as it gets."

He nodded understandingly. "She is very loyal to Eric. With good reason, I might add."

We were outside now, and I led the way to my car. He raised his eyebrows when he saw it, but didn't comment. This was becoming a kind of theme with people I offered a lift to.

We drove through Shreveport until we came to a hotel not too far from Fangtasia, which had a good reputation. We were lucky that Mr C could pass for human, as it wasn't what I thought of as Supe-friendly. Even though the world now knew about vampires and Weres, it hadn't cottoned on to the possibility that there may be even more out there. I didn't really see how anyone with a brain in their heads couldn't be thinking, "hey, if _this_ is real, what else is?" but it seemed that most folks were happy just to carry on blindly until something came up behind them and bit them in the ass. Thing is, that's what happens if you stick your head in the sand.

We booked Mr C into a nice double room on the third floor, and then we sat by the coffee table together and he opened up his briefcase.

"I spent some time with Mr Northman before he left, and he has given me the broad details of his principle investments, properties and overseas holdings. He tells me that Miss Ravenscroft has the access codes to the safes both at his home and in Fangtasia, which contain the documents relating to his property and investment portfolios. Meanwhile, I have been able to work out a rough schedule of his, or I should say, _your_ assets," he corrected himself with a smile.

"You do know that I just want to keep everything kinda ticking over until Eric can come home, don't you?" I said.

"Yes indeed, and I discussed this with him. He told me to tell you that tricking him into signing the deed of transfer unread was underhanded, sneaky, devious and deceitful and he was proud of you. He admitted he would probably never have agreed had you asked him first, but he said, and I quote, 'It is much easier to obtain forgiveness than permission,' and he thought your plan was worthy of a vampire. I believe he regards that as a compliment."

"Yeah, he would do." I smiled, a little mistily. Then I gave myself a metaphorical shake and focussed on what Mr C was explaining to me. He began to go through the list of Eric's property.

After a little while, I rang room service and ordered a stiff gin and tonic. I know you're supposed to take brandy for shock, but I really don't like brandy, even though I had had one hell of a shock. Even on a rough calculation, Eric's fortune was…well, the only word from my calendar that seemed to fit was _astronomical._. He seemed to have a real knack for making money, and had been salting it away for centuries. Although I didn't fully understand it, compound interest seemed to be a really neat idea, and Eric's money just kept making more money. Also, he seemed to have a real eye for qualtiy, and stuff that he had bought centuries ago and just kept because he thought it was beautiful was now worth a fortune. He had original paintings by Leonardo da Vinci and some guy called Modigliani; he owned a gold mine somewhere in South America, a plastics factory in Germany, a small shipping line, half-a-dozen condos, a private jet…the list just went on and on. And it wasn't even a complete list! I was just bowled over at the thought of all this stuff, and now I was responsible for it! I began to shake and had a large gulp of my drink.

Mr Cataliades smiled understandingly, and said, "don't worry, Mrs Northman. I will take control of everything for you. You will not have to do anything other than sign occasional documents. Oh, one thing Mr Northman did insist on before he left." He looked distinctly uncomfortable at this point. "I am instructed to buy you a new car. Mr Northman said you would need one with good air-conditioning in Nevada, and he didn't think your present car would be adequate." I opened my mouth to protest, and he hurried on. "He also said that if you argued with me, I was to tell you that he did not permit just anybody to use his name, there were conditions attached to the infringement of his copyright, and that one of them was that you were to do as you were damn well told. Excuse me, I am merely quoting his words."

I laughed out loud at the typically Eric words coming from the lawyer. He was clearly uncomfortable using language like that, but he was duty bound to follow his client's instructions. He looked so uneasy that I took pity on him, and said, "well, if that's what he said, that's what we'd better do. Don't worry, I won't give you a hard time. He's right – I could use a new car, but I just couldn't afford one."

"Well, now you can afford anything you want, my dear. You are a very wealthy woman."

"Not really. This is all Eric's stuff."

"He wants you to have everything you need, and he told me he was fairly sure that you were not a gold-digger who had married him for his money."

That Eric! He knew just how to make me laugh. He always had. We didn't just share a blood-bond, we shared a sense of humour. I didn't think I would find anyone to laugh with like that in Vegas. That thought sobered me up some, and I turned my mind back to business. There were a whole heap of forms to fill in, bank account mandates to sign and what have you. We agreed to set up a meeting with Eric's accountant as soon as possible. Eric hadn't got round to appointing a new day guy since his crazy half-brother Alexei had killed Bobby Burnham, and so we were going to have to go digging to uncover everything we needed. Fortunately, although he'd been an asshole, Bobby had been an efficient asshole and we were reasonably optimistic.

Eventually my stomach rumbled, and we decided to take a break and get something to eat. I opted for room service, and Mr C very tactfully said he would prefer to go to the restaurant. He knew I wanted to be alone, so he put his papers away and then headed downstairs.

I phoned through an order for a chicken and tuna melt, with salad and a Fresca, and finished off my gin and tonic while waiting for it to arrive. I ate quickly, and then, finally, allowed myself to open my purse and take out the gift Eric had sent me.

The little red box first. I closed my eyes and held it in my hand, knowing that he had held it in his so recently. Then I opened it up. Nestling against the white silk lining was a watch. It had a delicate diamond and pearl strap and the casing was made of white gold, with the twined initials E and S engraved on the back. It was the loveliest, thing I had ever seen, and my eyes filled with tears as I slipped it on. Naturally, the strap was perfectly sized to my wrist; Eric never missed a detail like that. Knowing his attention to that sort of thing, I was a bit surprised that the time was wrong, so I looked at the little instruction card in the lid. It said, _"A perfect accessory for a human companion, the Sunset Watch is the latest innovation in vampire-oriented technology. It can be programmed to sound a discreet alarm note shortly before sunset for your choice of time-zone. Self-adjusting for the seasons, you need never miss your vampire's rising-time again." _

I turned to the heavy cream envelope that had come with the watch. It was addressed to Mrs Sookie Northman in Eric's beautiful old-fashioned script. The note said,

_My lover_

_I find I cannot express my feelings in words, so I send you this gift, hoping it will speak for me. _

_I had ordered this watch as a surprise for you when I returned to Louisiana, but now it must serve as a farewell gift. You would honour me by wearing it. It is set to Swedish time. When you hear the alarm, know that as I rise my first thought is of you. _

_I am wearing an identical watch, albeit in a somewhat larger size, set to sunset Vegas time, and each night I shall think of you in the desert twilight, the setting sun gilding your beautiful hair. _

_I thank you for the keepsake which you left me; it is curled round my finger as I write this. If I can bring myself to part with it, I shall have it mounted in crystal, an eternal reminder to me of the one who holds my heart._

_tills vi möts igen, min lilla fru._

_Ever yours_

_Eric_

Oh my God. The words blurred as my eyes filled again, and I hunted madly in my purse for a kleenex. Then I put my head down on the pillow and sobbed my heart out. I had decided after my pity-party yesterday that the best way to cope with this whole situation was to allow myself ten minutes a day of feeling sorry for myself, when I could cry or yell or smash things, and then I would just get up and get on with my life. I figured this was a good time for today's ten minutes. Mind you, it might run into fifteen.

When I had finished, I headed for the bathroom and splashed water on my face, and by the time Mr Cataliades came back I was strong Sookie again. We finished the last of our paperwork, and then it was time to head to Fangtasia, and our meeting with Pam.

When we got there, there was a big hand-lettered sign on the door, saying CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE so we went round the back to the service entrance. Pam let us in when we knocked and led us straight through to Eric's office. Tonight, she had on a power-suit in claret-coloured brocade, with matching pumps. She was dressed for business.

We sat in Eric's office (which still had a large red stain on the wall, although all the broken glass had been cleaned up) and the first thing she asked, just like me, was, "have you heard from him?"

I wasn't going to make the same mistake I made yesterday, so I answered her, "yes, he's in Sweden and he's okay." If I hadn't been hanging around vamps for so long, I wouldn't have noticed it, but I'd swear there was the tiniest hint of relaxation in her posture. Almost invisible, but I think it was there. She had been as wound up as I was. Or nearly.

"Then we must now decide what to do. Firstly, what are his wishes regarding Fangtasia?"

I looked at the lawyer. How was Pam going to react to the news that, as the majority shareholder in the bar, I was now her boss? This could be tricky.

Fortunately, Mr C was more than up to the task. He explained the exact position to Pam in legal terms, and apart from shooting one gimlet glance at me, she took it fairly well. I think for a second she suspected me of setting the whole thing up just to obtain control of Eric's assets, but a moment's thought told her that this was just plain stupid. If I'd wanted Eric's stuff, I'd have just got him to sign the deed of transfer and then let them execute him. That's certainly what she'd have done.

I hastily said, "Pam, would you mind taking Fangtasia over completely? I'm sure Eric would want you to have it. You run it anyway, mostly, and although I can sling drinks with the best of them, I was never management material. Could you do that, until he comes home? Please?"

She nodded abruptly. "Very well." That was it. 'Nuff said.

Then we moved on to paperwork and yet more paperwork. Now she was assured of Eric's safety, Pam was prepared to focus on other matters. She opened the safe and handed over the contents to Mr C, and promised to go with him to Eric's home later that evening to go through the safe there. He in turn promised to bring anything of interest to me in Bon Temps, and then the discussion finally turned to the important part of the evening, for me at least. How to help Eric and how to screw Madden.

Pam sat back in her chair, and swivelled it gently. "First, Area Five. Who will take it over?"

"We reckon it's gonna be Victor," I sighed. "He's been angling for it for months, and we think Felipe'll let him have it as a reward for getting me to sign on the dotted line."

"Tell me exactly why he wants Area Five, when he is already Felipe's lieutenant. It looks like a step down the power structure." Pam's mind was like a steel trap, and she had clearly been thinking carefully about this since last night. The lawyer answered.

"We are not sure, but when I spoke to Mr Northman about this, he said he thinks Victor would like more independence. As Felipe's agent all he does currently is ensure that the king's commands are carried out – he has no power himself. Nevada already has a full complement of strong sheriffs, who would vigorously resist any attempts by Mr Madden to annexe their territory, so he is forced to look at Louisiana, which is weak, and Area Five is easily the most profitable Area in the kingdom, thanks partly to Eric and partly to Mr Compton."

"Bill?" I was puzzled by his inclusion.

"Yes, Mr Compton's database has proven extremely lucrative, and he is currently engaged in a more detailed update, cross-referencing all vampires to their makers and children."

"Is that something vamps want?"

"Sheriffs would find it useful," said Pam. "it would make it a lot easier to control any strangers in their area. Do you remember when the rogue vampire Micky was plaguing your human friend Tara? If Eric had not known who his maker was, it would have been much harder to make him leave. As it was, a single phone-call and Micky was summoned by Salome."

"Yeah, but he still beat Tara up and hit Eric in the head with a rock before he left."

"No matter. He had to answer her call sooner or later. It is a compulsion that no vampire can resist, even the most powerful."

"That reminds me, I need to call on Bill before I leave, ask him if he'll keep an eye on my house and Amelia for me."

After that little detour, we turned back to the business.

Pam said, " So we think Victor is motivated by ambition and greed. These are his two weaknesses?"

Mr Cataliades said, " Certainly he is ambitious, but I think we can leave it to the king to deal with that. He has known Victor for a very long time, and is definitely aware of his desire for power. If he sees Victor as a threat to his throne, he will move against him without any assistance from us. He may allow him to have Area Five in order to, er, give him enough rope and see if he hangs himself. Felipe will be watching Victor's progress here very carefully, we can be certain of that."

"Money, then."

"Hell, yes," I said. "Victor's got real expensive tastes. I think he loves money – it pushes his buttons big-time," And then I told Pam about what Eric had done to Victor's pen.

She loved it. Her eyes lit up, her fangs descended and she struck the desk with the flat of her hand, making it creak worryingly. Then she said, "You are sure? He is driven by a desire for money?"

Mr C confirmed that Victor had been distraught at the destruction of his little trinket, and that yes, he did indeed appear to love the green stuff. The light of reverence in his eyes when he had mentioned the cost of his now defunct pen had spoken volumes.

"Then we will hit him where it hurts - in his wallet," Pam said. "But this will only be the beginning." And there was a world of unspoken stake in her voice. "If he is indeed made sheriff of Area Five, I know exactly how we can do it."

Then she proceeded to fill me in on a few very interesting details regarding vampire law. Mr Cataliades added some suggestions of his own, and before I headed back to Bon Temps we had decided between us that if Mr Madden came back to Shreveport he would get a damn sight more than he had bargained for. Or, just possibly, a damn sight less.


	10. Chapter 10

**Not a cheerful chapter I'm afraid. Sookie's in sombre mood. Sorry, folks, that's just the way it turned out; sometimes this stuff acquires a life of its own. As usual, all reviews gratefully received.**

Chapter 10

The alarm on my watch went off, and I turned over in bed and sighed and stretched before reaching for my robe. I sat up and looked at my picture window, where the sun was setting over Swedish pine-forests. Sadly, that's exactly what it was – a picture, projected onto the wall. There were no windows in my suite. It was a great honour and all, being housed in the state apartments, but it did mean I was pretty short of sunlight. My tan was fading. I could have sunbathed in the grounds, but it was a public building during the day and there was no privacy, so last week Felipe had bought me my own sun-bed; he was very generous, I couldn't deny that. Having ruthlessly acquired my services, he felt he could afford to humour me, and gave me pretty much everything I asked for. Except permission to leave, or to see my friends.

That was one of the hardest things I had to cope with. There was no-one here who I could talk with about Eric. I missed him every day and every night, with a pain that was hard to describe. People who've had limbs amputated say that the missing part still aches even though it's not there. That's how I felt.

I sat up against the pillows, in the beautiful peach and white silk bathrobe Eric had bought me. I looked at my watch again. Although it was set to Swedish time, I'd grown used to automatically subtracting nine hours for local time. Closing my eyes, I concentrated with all my strength on the bloodbond and started sending Eric love and reassurance and love and hope and love, as I did every single night at the time of his rising. I didn't know how much got through; after two months and who knew how many thousand miles of distance our bond had faded almost completely. I prayed that he heard me, but in my heart I doubted it. I kept the focus up for a quarter of an hour, pausing every few minutes to see if anything came back, but there was nothing. The only hope I had was that Pam had assured me I would know if he died, but that was all. It wasn't much of an encouragement, to be honest.

I debated going and getting some coffee, but in the end decided that a few more hours' sleep wouldn't hurt. Over the last two months I had become pretty nocturnal. Luckily, working the late shift at Merlotte's had accustomed me to weird hours and my body-clock seemed to cope ok. I set my bedside alarm for six o'clock local time, curled back up under the covers and drifted off, to be woken by the beep.

I showered and dressed and tried to decide whether to order breakfast or go up to ground level and get it myself. I tried to get up there at least once a day. I didn't do much usually; just sat there and watched the humans (weird, I now thought of them as humans, not as people. I was spending way too much time with the vamps), but if I stayed on the lower levels, the mental silence there became more and more attractive and I found I began to shrink from going back upstairs. When I did, it was always like being punched in the head as I had to re-adjust to all the voices in my mind, and the longer I left it between visits, the worse it was. I decided to phone for breakfast and then go call in at the mailroom to see if there was anything for me. I occasionally got letters and postcards from friends, but they were all read by the security staff; My email was monitored too.

I ordered shirred eggs and pancakes and OJ from the canteen, and it arrived in less than ten minutes. As the highest-ranking human in the place, my orders got priority treatment. I ate quickly and then set the tray outside my door to be taken away. It would be spotted by someone on the surveillance cameras and they'd alert Domestic Services. Sometimes it was like living in a luxury hotel. There were days when the bars on my cage were almost invisible.

I headed for the elevators. As I left my suite, I smiled and said hi to the Were guards stationed along the corridor; I knew all their names. They all smiled and said, "hey, Mrs Northman." No-one called me Sookie any more, but I didn't mind. Every time they used my surname it gave me a tiny thrill; It was a connection to Eric.

I wasn't accompanied by a "bodyguard" any more, now that I was on staff, but there were surveillance cameras everywhere. Level five was pretty empty during daylight hours anyway apart from security and the people from Domestic Services. I'd tried speaking to some of the maids and cleaners, but they were pretty much glamoured up. Yet another security precaution. This was my biggest problem. All the VIVs (very important vampires) had their own apartments down here, including Victor, but there was no point trying to get in; Believe me, I'd tried, but the security was mega. Were guards everywhere, plus all the doors were electronically coded. It was kind of discouraging. I passed the state apartments. They were really impressive. Sometimes when I was bored I wandered through the huge, echoing throne room and the reception areas, looking at the artwork and the rich furniture; as the king's telepath I had an Access All Areas pass and nobody tried to stop me. Outside Level Five there was nowhere I couldn't go, and only one place I wouldn't go. Level One. I shuddered at the recollection of that hideous day when I had found Eric in that chrome-lined hell-hole. Well, I had bought his freedom at the price of my own, but at least my prison was mink-lined.

The mailroom was on level two, and I went and checked my pigeonhole. There was a postcard from Tara who was on holiday in the Maldives and a letter from Mr Cataliades, detailing some of his recent activities on my behalf. I left all of my (Eric's) property in his hands, and he kept me very well informed. Naturally, I had already willed it all straight back to Eric, and I was keeping it completely intact ready for the day when he could come home. I had also arranged for almost the entire income from his business empire to be forwarded to him through a complex series of cover companies which Mr Cataliades and the Eric's accountant had set up for me. The bank accounts were in my name, but Mr C was a signatory on them as well, so he could funnel whatever funds he liked wherever he liked. I didn't ask. What I didn't know, I couldn't tell.

The lawyer's letter had been opened, but it was completely harmless; just stocks and shares and property deals. I wandered to the elevator, up two levels, and went out into the grounds, where I headed down to my favourite spot by the pool. It wasn't completely private; someone came along the path every two or three minutes, but at least I was in the sun.

I sat and relaxed, watching the occasional reddish gleam in the water as the ornamental fish rose and turned and sank back into the cool depths. I read Tara's postcard again, and then just sat, turning the lawyer's letter over and over and over in my hands. As usual, although the letter had been produced on a computer, the envelope had been addressed by hand. Mr Cataliades liked the personal touch. I smiled and looked at the strong, sloping handwriting. Sloping? That was weird; it was his hand-writing, but it was usually really upright. I looked more closely. All the upstrokes were slanting strangely, towards the top right-hand corner of the envelope, towards the stamp.

I thought for a few minutes and then got up and slowly, casually, headed for the canteen. I ordered coffee, black, and took it to an empty table where I put it right in front of me. It was extremely hot and I had to wait for it to cool down. Meanwhile I sat and re-read the letter, very slowly and thoroughly, my elbows propped on the table either side of the cup. I was holding the envelope against the back of the letter, and the steam from the coffee was curling up round the edges of the paper as I read. It was also scalding my hand, but I gritted my teeth and left it in position for as long as I could stand it. Eventually, the pain became too much to bear and I put the letter down and sipped the drink, now much cooler.

As I did so, gazing round me at the other diners at the nearby tables, my left hand rested on the envelope, which was now on top of the papers. My fingers played with it idly, my nail scratching very gently at the edge of the stamp while my face stayed carefully blank. Loosened by the steam the edge of the stamp came up a little, and then a little more. I peeled it back as far as I dared, but couldn't risk going further, I didn't know who was watching. I finished my drink, gathered my letters and headed back to the elevators. I picked one of the ones that went all the way down to Level Five, inserted my card in the slot in the wall, and the light came on. When the doors slid open, the Were guard inside was on the alert, gun at the ready. He relaxed when he saw who it was. "Hey, Banjo," I said. He was called that because he just loved bluegrass music.

He smiled and said, "Five, ma'am?" 

"Yup."

We chatted pleasantly on the way down, about how he was finding his new duties; he'd only recently been rotated to Royal Security from In-House, and he was finding a lot of it dull; you didn't see nearly as many people and there was a hell of a lot of waiting around, but the pay was good. You got huge bonuses for the unsocial hours.

The elevator pinged softly and I stepped out and made my way to my own suite, which was almost next door to the king's. He liked to have me nearby, just in case. It was hard not to hurry, but I wouldn't let myself. The surveillance cameras picked up every movement in the corridors and I did not want to look suspicious.

I unlocked my door with the keycard (My suite was just as secure as the vamps'; I was the only person apart from the maids who had that code) and went into my elegant living-room, tossing the letters casually on the coffee-table as I went to the bedroom to hang up my jacket. Another minor fly in my ointment was I had to dress smart at all times when not in my room; no slobbing about in sweatpants and T-shirt; not for the king's immediate retinue.

I remembered how mad I had been when Eric had once declared me part of _his_ retinue when he was negotiating with the late queen over who would have the use of my services at the summit in Rhodes. As I recall, I had said, "Up you _and_ your retinue!" and I'd called him "buddy." He'd hated that. I smiled reminiscently, as I remembered the outraged expression on his face and my eyes threatened to well up for a moment, but I forced the tears back. I didn't cry these days. Well, not much.

I glanced at my watch. Time was getting on, and it would soon be sunset. I changed my clothes, did my hair and make-up, made sure my pager was switched on, gathered up my papers (not forgetting Mr Cataliades' letter) and headed out to the gardens. The sun was just setting, and I hurried down to the little pool, where I sat on a bench that faced roughly east and closed my eyes for a few minutes just like I'd done every evening that I could for the last two months. I thought of Eric, and prayed he was thinking of me as he had promised, and then I went back inside and headed to the king's reception rooms. Right now, my duties weren't exactly tough. I attended the king's early evening audience, when he heard petitions, resolved disputes and greeted honoured guests, and then my time was my own provided I kept my pager on in case of a royal summons.

It wasn't always this easy; If the king travelled I had to go with him, and then my role was much more high-profile; he liked to show me off to the other vampire rulers, knowing that they were as envious as hell of him. With vamps it's not about having good stuff; it's all about having _better_ stuff than everybody else, and Felipe had huge kudos because of me. I was like the human equivalent of Victor's stupid pen; a status symbol. He also liked knowing that the other rulers would all try and tempt me away from him, but that I couldn't leave no matter what they offered. I felt like a performing monkey as Felipe had me demonstrate my talents on command, and I always heaved a sigh of relief when we got back to Vegas. I was amazed at how much travelling he actually did. It seemed that all the vampire kings spent at least half their time visiting other monarchs, networking, checking out the opposition. He'd even made me get my first ever passport in case he went overseas. I kind of hoped he would; it was only America Eric couldn't enter, and I might able to find a way to see him, even if I couldn't speak to him.

Tonight, the king's visitors and guests were all gathered in the Gauguin room; a big reception area decorated in tropical colours and hung with reproductions of that artist's work. At least, I assumed they were reproductions; who knows? Felipe was real wealthy and real old. He might have known Gauguin personally, for all I knew. The humans and vamps shared the same room, but they kind of separated out naturally, vamps with vamps, humans with humans, except for a very few humans who belonged to the visiting vampires. They tended to stay close to their "owners." Jeez, I hated that word. Eric had never formally declared me "his", but he had never needed to. We knew we belonged to each other.

I smiled and greeted the Were guard, and he handed me my clipboard, listing tonight's guests and their official reason for the visit. Felipe liked me to run my mind over them before they were admitted, so that I could pick up any potential problems in advance. I went and sat near the other humans, and studied the list. The humans gathered near the bar and the coffee machines and the vamps near the TrueBlood fountains. They looked really gross. Eric had told me that most vamps, if they had to drink TrueBlood, preferred it from a fountain to the bottled stuff because the splashing oxygenated it, making it more like the real thing.

The humans didn't know I worked for the king, and even if they had, they wouldn't have believed I was doing what I was doing. Weird, the vamps knew exactly who I was and what I could do, even though I couldn't do it to them; the humans hadn't a clue. I let my mind range, picking up the young guy in the next seat. He was nervous, but a quick check revealed it was only because he was planning on visiting a casino after his interview, and he was under-age. As long as it wasn't one of our casinos, owned by Felipe, I had no problem with that.

I checked the woman pouring herself an espresso. She was just tired – she had had a long drive to get here, but she had been summoned to see the king about the "tribute" he was taking from her business. Takings were down, and she had been threatened by two of Felipe's enforcers, who didn't believe her story; they thought she was keeping money back. Her mind revealed that she was telling the truth.

As I read each mind there, I pencilled quick notes by their names, and when I had finished I left again and went round to a different set of doors, leading directly into the king's ante-chamber, where he prepared before going to the throne room to give audience. I nodded at the two Weres on duty, but didn't show my pass; they knew me. I knocked and pushed open the heavy cream doors.

This room was all cool blue and ivory tones. It was one of my favourites. There was a small group of vampires standing round the king, who was the only one seated. He looked round as I entered, and I curtseyed. Pam had shown me how before I left Shreveport, and I had gotten real good at it in the last two months; protocol said that I had to curtsey and address him as "your majesty" the first time I saw him each night, but after that I could just call him "sir." The vamps had to do quite a lot of bowing and scraping, but they were his subjects, and I was an employee.

He beckoned and I moved confidently towards the group, registering thankfully that Victor was not present. It was not that I was scared of him; I just found him a distraction, as I was constantly looking round for something sharp and wooden. He wasn't at court much these days; As expected, he had given up his job as lieutenant for Louisiana, and was now sheriff of Area Five, but for some reason it wasn't nearly as enjoyable (or profitable) as he had hoped.

At our council of war at Fangtasia, Pam had explained to me that there are very strict rules governing the appointment of a new sheriff. It only tends to happen when the old sheriff of an area is promoted, or moves somewhere else or, occasionally, is killed. All vampires under oath to the old sheriff are allowed to relocate with him or her, or if they choose to stay put they are given a year to decide whether to offer fealty to the new guy. It makes sense really; you've no way of telling if you can trust someone with your oath of loyalty and obedience until you've got to know them. Because of Eric's stupid conviction for treason, all his followers were released from their oath automatically, but none had yet signed on with Victor. This meant he was left with almost no-one to work with. He had expected that a lot of his underlings would relocate with him to Shreveport, but from what I heard almost everyone had opted to stay in New Orleans. How embarrassing was that? ! I guessed he wouldn't be needing his acceptance speech for the "Most Popular Vamp of the Year" award yet awhile.

Then he found he had virtually no assets either. All the vamps who ran businesses in Area Five and who had paid tribute to Eric for his protection and support were now keeping their profits, thank you very much. No oath of fealty; no tribute. Of course, they all still owed fealty to the king and so paid tribute directly to him like they always did, so Felipe was perfectly happy, but Victor was _seriously_ cash-starved – no more Mont blanc pens for him for a while, I guess.

He didn't even have a suitable headquarters; Eric had always used Fangtasia, and Pam's first act as the new sole manager had been to bar Victor and any of his cronies who did decide to follow him. She had also ensured that the same thing applied to all of Eric's establishments. I hadn't realised just how much of Shreveport my honey owned, but when we had met with his accountant and examined the documents from his safes, I had discovered that he had at least a majority share in pretty much every all-night business in the city and a fair few of the daylight ones; dry-cleaners, take-aways, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, strip-joints, liquor stores, cinemas, taxicab-companies, security firms, gas stations, convenience stores, you name it. Pam or Mr C had personally visited every single one of them and told them in no uncertain terms that if they served Victor or his minions, their rent would double overnight and that would be the least of their worries. With Pam on their case, they had all taken the hint, and it meant that Victor had to send out of town if he wanted so much as a packet of Kleenex. He couldn't even gas up his car locally.

He had tried to set up his own firms, but he hated having to spend his own money, and without a whole load of capital you couldn't even start a business and somehow, the local vamps and their associates didn't seem to want to give him their custom.

He found that he was spending less and less time at court and more and more time in Shreveport trying to shore up his power. A big part of his problem was that Eric had always paid huge amounts of tribute to the king, as he owned so much, but now it was all mine and had been removed from the tribute set-up. I hadn't taken an oath of fealty to anyone. Felipe was certainly not willing to take a cut in his revenues (in fact, I had heard that one of the reasons Victor had been granted Area Five was because he had convinced the king that he could run it more profitably than Eric) and Victor didn't dare admit the problems he was having. He was having to make up the massive shortfall from his own pocket, to try and hide his difficulties, but I knew, and I'm pretty damn sure that Felipe did as well.

I was going to bleed him dry, excuse the expression.

When he did turn up in Vegas, He avoided me as much as possible, but occasional meetings were inevitable, when he always tried to behave as though nothing had ever happened between us. He had tried to launch a charm offensive, but as far as I was concerned, there was precious little charm and a hell of a lot of offensive. It had taken a lot of effort on my part not to just stake him outright. But my years of learning to conceal my emotions had come in real handy and I found my most effective weapon, once again, was silence. He couldn't stand it. I just looked at him blankly whenever he spoke to me, and then deliberately looked over at the king and then back at Victor. I got quite a kick out of watching him squirm. The king and the other vampires seemed to find it funny, too. What can I say? They had a weird sense of humour, he was none too popular.

The group of courtiers moved aside as I approached, and the king smiled. No fangs, so he wasn't mad. A good start to the evening. "Ah, Mrs Northman. You are looking very lovely this evening."

I smiled back. "Thank you, your majesty." Actually, he looked pretty gorgeous himself tonight, in his usual black suit with a frilled white shirt and red cummerbund and a real honest-to-goodness cape.

"Anything of interest tonight?"

I handed the king my clipboard. "No sir, everyone looks to be above-board. There was just one name I couldn't identify in the reception room." I pointed it out on the list. "Adelaide Cummings. She wasn't there."

The king looked at his chamberlain, who consulted the vamp next to him briefly and then said, "she is a legal administrator on the fourth level, sire, who is suspected of embezzling a small sum of money – eighty-five thousand dollars. (_What_? _Small sum?_ Try not to gape openly, Sookie, it doesn't look real elegant). It was felt it would be more politic for your majesty to see her privately, in order not to unsettle our other guests. We do not wish to wash our dirty linen in public. She is currently being held in the Custody Suite, and will be brought down if you wish to see her."

My legs nearly gave way, but fortunately there was a chair nearby so I slid into it and clasped my shaking hands in my lap, while looking down to hide my expression. I could imagine the poor woman's terror, being in that foul place; I had seen enough of it to last me a lifetime. Several lifetimes. If she was found guilty, I knew what awaited her. My contract with the king specified that no-one I identified for him would be killed or tortured, but even so…I hoped desperately that she was innocent.

Felipe considered for a moment, and then said, "Very well. We will deal with this first. Bring her in." He looked at me. "Mrs Northman, are you ready?"

I looked up, smiling brightly. "Of course, sir." I had a good grip on myself now. A messenger was despatched to fetch Adelaide, and I put down my paperwork and flicked through a magazine on the coffee-table by my chair while I waited. It was called _After Dark_, a popular vampire glossy full of articles with titles like, "To Glamour or Not to Glamour– the Debate Rages On", "What Is Your Human Really Thinking? – Take Our Fab Quiz!" and "Forty Different Flavours – Your Verdict on the New TrueBlood Range". Cosmo for the undead.

There was a knock on the door and one of the guards opened it. Adelaide was brought in, and she was a terrified mess. She was shaking, and the guard was practically having to hold her upright. Her brown hair was a snarly tangle, her suit was crumpled and her pantyhose had a run in them.

She showed no sign of physical brutality, but my initial glance into her mind showed her fear. She was brought to stand at some distance from, and directly in front of, the king and I came and stood by her. She glanced at me fearfully and I smiled reassuringly. She didn't realise it, but she was lucky I was there. Felipe had found it far simpler to use me when dealing with humans rather than having people glamoured. Glamouring had its disadvantages. Bill always said it was a bit like losing stuff from a computer hard-drive. You could never be a hundred per cent sure that you had restored everything, so you never really knew what you had lost. Sometimes it could be something quite vital, and if you had to do it too often you lost some of the victim's personality. While this didn't worry the vampires, it tended to worry their employees and consequently they found it hard to recruit quality human staff. I was a lot more accurate and a lot less invasive, and a lot quicker, usually.

I took her hand, which made her jump, and then looked at the king and nodded.

He leaned forward in his chair and focussed his gaze on her. She paled. This tended to happen, even when you hadn't been accused of embezzling. The king was pretty damn scary.

"Mrs Cummings, do you know why you are here?"

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Yes."

"You have been accused of embezzling money from the accounts for which you are currently responsible. Have you done so?"

She swallowed, and looked around desperately.

"No."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes."

"Mrs Northman, if you please." The king sat back in his chair and gestured for me to begin.

I shut my eyes and began to wade through the fog of terror that threatened to swamp her mind.

_OhshitohshitohshitI'mgoingtogotoprisonwhat'sshedoing?howdidIgetintothismess?Whydoesn'tGloriareturnmycalls?''minside?OGodshe'ssetmeupbutI'?…_

Oh crap. This was not good. A quick sort through her memories revealed that she worked in Accounts and had discovered that a woman she had thought of as a friend had been cooking the books. Because her friend had begged for a second chance and she was a genuinely nice woman, she had agreed not to report it for three days in order to give her "friend" time to replace the money. Instead, it appeared that this Gloria had done a runner with the eighty-five thousand dollars, and left Adelaide to take the heat. Gloria's creative accounting made it almost impossible to prove that it was not Adelaide who had taken the money.

The poor soul was terrified that at the worst she would be killed and at the best she would be fired, handed over to the human authorities and sent to prison. Her little boy Josh and her husband Matthew wouldn't see her again for a very long time. That was the worst of it for her; being separated from her family.

All this had taken only two or three seconds, and then I pulled back and opened my eyes. I looked at her and all I could see in her frightened gaze was the pain of knowing she was about to lose the people she loved. I knew what that felt like. Boy, did I ever.

I went back into her mind and looked for any clues as to where Gloria might have gone. I found that she liked winter sports. I let go her hand and told the king everything I had seen. He considered his options, and conferred with his chamberlain before turning back to the confused, frightened woman in front of him..

"Very well, Mrs Cummings. We accept your story, and that you were tricked by a woman you thought was your friend. You will repay the money that your misplaced loyalty has cost us, by monthly deductions from your salary, and as a precaution you will be transferred to a different department with immediate effect. You may take the rest of the night off, and tomorrow you will report to Records. They are in need of additional staff. Sergei," this to the chamberlain "see to it." 

Then he ordered an immediate description of Gloria from her personnel file to be sent to all vampire kingdoms containing ski resorts and similar places. She might think she'd gotten away with it, but I knew different. She just couldn't run far enough. You couldn't rip vampires off and get away with it. No way.

Adelaide was staring at me in shock. She had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she wasn't drained or in custody. The guard took her arm again and she left the room in a daze, looking back over her shoulder at me as the door closed.

The king dismissed the matter from his mind. Then he checked his watch and said, "Ah well, duty calls," and stood up. Immediately the other vamps formed up behind him and I collected my paperwork and took my place behind them. Although I was high-ranked for a human, I was still bottom of the totem pole when it came to the complicated vampire hierarchy. The chamberlain nodded to the Were guards, who swung open the double doors into the throne room and the king entered and took his seat on his throne, the rest of his retinue spreading out to their places. The nearer you were to the king, the higher up the vamp ladder you were, so there was always a lot of in-fighting and discreet pushing and shoving.

As for me, I knew my place. I moved to a desk which was at the side of the room, but well within view of Felipe. I arranged my documents and sat down ready to play spot-the-liar. The system we had figured out was a real simple one, but it worked. While he was talking to other vampires, I could do what the hell I liked, but all the while he was interviewing humans, I sat real still. I pretended to be reading a document or some such, but it was all just camouflage. The people the king was speaking to had no idea that I was actually just doodling or doing Sudoku (the easy ones), all the while keeping an ear out for their mental broadcasts. I stayed still unless I detected a lie, when I simply did something with my papers. It could be anything; turning a page, picking up a new document, dropping a sheet of paper, shifting a document to a new pile. Any paper-related activity at all told the king that he'd just been lied to. The bigger the lie, the more marked my reaction. On one occasion I had dropped an entire ream of paper on the floor when I picked up that a vampire visitor was a spy from Mississippi, attempting to sniff out any weaknesses in the kingdom. His cover story was very plausible, but his human companion's mind leaked like a sieve.

The noise of the paper hitting the parquet floor had been so loud that I had apologised and left the room hurriedly, feeling every vampire in the room staring at me in outrage. Felipe, who, in spite of what Victor thought, was actually real intelligent, had sent a chamberlain after me, he said to see if I was alright, but really to find out what was going on. I had hurriedly told the chamberlain what I had heard, and he had called security and then told the king. Felipe had been real grateful and had shown it with a beautiful sapphire necklace and ear-rings and a plasma screen TV. I used the TV, but the sapphires went into my dressing-table drawer. The only items of jewellery I ever wore were my watch and my diamond bracelet. I never took them off.

Tonight's "paperwork" just happened to include the letter and envelope from my lawyer. The throne room was probably the only place inside the complex which I could be sure wasn't bugged or under covert surveillance of some sort, so I was going to have to check out my idea right under the vampires' noses. I had already decided that I wasn't going to do a thing until the end of the evening. Whether I was right or wrong, the less time vamps had to observe my reactions the better; they are scarily good at reading humans.

As the first guest was admitted, I was able to relax. It was a vampire, so I would be of no use; Felipe was on his own with this one. I made believe to study my fake paperwork, and possessed my soul in patience. Audience succeeded audience, with no major surprises and nothing but a little routine deception which I identified, but at last there were only two appointments left on the schedule. The first was another vampire case and so I knew all eyes would be elsewhere. I closed the cover of the magazine I was "reading" and the pale cream envelope was there on top. I appeared to be looking at the letter it had enclosed, but what I was really doing was gently tugging at the stamp on the envelope. I knew no-one in the room would be paying any attention to me; all their focus would be on one other. Most vamps didn't trust anyone. Even Eric only trusted two people; Pam, and me. Whoa there, girl. I tackled that thought before it crossed the line. I had got real good at that.

I continued to pick at the stamp and finally the sticky little square eased up and a quick glance showed that there were some very faint pencil marks underneath it. I let it fall back into place, resisting the temptation to snatch it up, but it was just as well I did, because the current audience was drawing to a close and the next petitioner was human, and so would require my attention. I hastily opened a file and focussed on my job. There were no problems; it was just a petition to be allowed to install a series of vending machines on-site. Popsicles and frozen yogurts and the like. The vamps didn't really care – it was all human stuff, but they figured it would be popular with their human staff, so the king gave permission for a trial period and the visitor was ushered out through the side doors. And that was that. Business over for the night, at least for me.

The vampires in the room had remained pretty much motionless and silent during the audiences – vampires are really good at that. They don't feel the need to fidget, scratch, look around or fiddle with the small change in their pockets, but now they began to break into small groups and converse quietly. I discreetly put all my paperwork in a neat pile, and took the opportunity to remove the stamp completely. The writing was still there. I held myself together and slipped out of the room, as I usually did. No-one objected; I think most of the vamps preferred my absence to my presence, although acknowledging my usefulness to their king.

I returned to my suite, and watched a film for a while; the paperwork was on the couch beside me, the envelope on top. I pretended to stretch, and pushed the papers to the floor. As I bent down to retrieve them, I got a real good look at the envelope. In tiny, tiny letters where the stamp had been were the words, _E loves and misses you. He thinks of you nightly. C_. I don't know how many agents or third parties those ten words had gone through to get here, but as I sat and stared at the TV screen it felt like my Eric was right next to me. Fortunately the film was an old black-and-white weepie (Random Harvest ) and so my tears would be seen as normal if there was anyone watching. I didn't know if my suite was bugged, but I had to assume it was. I didn't hear one single word more of what Ronald Colman and Greer Garson were saying onscreen. I just sat motionless, lost in my thoughts, not coming back to earth until the closing credits rolled.

Then I decided the safest thing was to hide this little gift in plain sight, so I put the letter back in its envelope and put them both away with my other correspondence. I didn't think anyone would check these again, as they'd already been opened and examined.

My picture window was now showing dawn rising over the same Swedish forests. It was a very clever piece of kit – it changed every few seconds, updating the image according to the time of day. This meant that whenever I looked at it, I knew whether it was morning or evening, noon or midnight where Eric was. Although the picture was just a generic one of Sweden, it made me feel closer to him somehow. I murmured, "goodnight, honey," just as I had done on the previous sixty or so nights without him.

The rest of the evening was completely uneventful, with no further calls from Felipe. I listened to my linguaphone tapes for a while (I was trying to learn Swedish just in case…) and then did some internet shopping. It was kind of fun, having an almost unlimited budget. I'd always been a Walmart kind of a girl, and now I could wear YSL and Gloria Vanderbilt and Prada shoes if I felt like it, and I must admit a lot of the time I did feel like it. Eric wouldn't have wanted me to just let myself go – he wouldn't want people looking at me and saying, "is that what the great Eric Northman chose to love?"

At last Vegas dawn rolled round and I went to bed. In some ways it had been similar to a lot of other evenings, but in one way it had been very special indeed. I murmured the words to myself as I fell asleep. "He loves you and misses you." Oh God, I missed him so much.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Four nights later I was on the second floor, heading for the Records Department. I'd not been in there before, and when I showed my pass and pushed through the double-doors, I was in a tiny little cubicle, with a counter and a push-button with a sign saying PLEASE RING. I rang and a clerk came through the door behind the counter.

I asked to speak to Adelaide Cummings, and he went to fetch her. Two minutes later she came through the door, and boy, what a difference! I hardly recognised her. She was smartly dressed, with neatly groomed hair and subtle but attractive make-up. She looked so much better than the last time I'd seen her and she looked at me with raised eyebrows for a second, before memory kicked in and she smiled. She was really pretty when she wasn't terrified.

"Oh…! Mrs, uh, Northman, isn't it?"

I smiled and said, "Hi Adelaide, how you all doing?"

"Oh, I'm great, I'm doing real great. Listen, I'm very glad to see you; I really wanted to say thank you so much for what you did for me the other night but I didn't know how to contact you. I don't know how you did it, but you convinced them I was telling the truth. I am _so _grateful, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

"You're welcome, Adelaide. I was happy to help. How are things going for you now?"

"Oh, much, much better. I've told my husband everything, and he's been really good about it, even though it's going to hit us quite hard financially. It turns out he never much liked Gloria, but he didn't say anything because she was my friend, so he wasn't a bit surprised at what she did. I really hope they catch her." For a moment her friendly face had a very fierce look on it.

"Well, I've got some good news for you, then. They _have_ caught her and she's in custody downstairs. She was in Aspen, under a false name."

Her face lit up. "Really? Oh that's wonderful. Matthew will be so pleased!" her expression got anxious. "Do you know whether they managed to get the money back or not?"

I thought of the woman I had just seen downstairs, her face a mixture of terror and defiance as she refused to say a word. Some hope. It had taken me less than ten minutes to get the info the king needed. I'd had help from someone calling themselves a forensic accountant, as I didn't know what to ask, but he'd fed her the questions and I'd just pulled the answers clean out of her brain. Her expression of shock as I did it would have been funny had I not seen the mind behind the pretty face. It was selfish and callous and cruel. She'd had no concern at all for poor Adelaide, but had deliberately set her up while pretending to be her friend. I had no problems telling the vamps everything, and then I'd left the room. I didn't want to know what they were planning for her, but the expressions on their faces said it was nothing good.

"I think you can be pretty certain that they'll get it back," I said, dryly. "Vamps don't like being ripped off any more than humans. They just tend to be a bit more direct in dealing with it."

"I guess so. Well, they can be as direct as they like with her, as far as I'm concerned." She really didn't know what she was saying. I kind of wished I didn't, but it was too late for that. It was more than possible that the words 'ripped off' could be prophetic but I found I didn't care. She had thrown her friend to the wolves without a second thought. Anyone mean enough to do that deserved whatever they got. Did that make me a bad person? Probably, but at least I was honest with myself.

She carried on, "does that mean I won't have to pay it all back?"

"I guess so. They'll be taking it out of her hide, not yours."

"Oh that's such a relief. Matthew was going to have to work double shifts until we got it paid off. I'm so glad it's all over. Still, it's all worked out quite well for me, really; I was never that happy in Accounts. I like it here in Records – much less pressure."

"So, what do you do here?" I asked. Felipe had asked me recently if I would start sitting in on interviews for new human staff, reckoning I'd have a good shot at picking reliable types. I hadn't had any to do yet, but I figured maybe I should find out a bit more about what all everybody did here if I was going to be involved. I didn't mind the extra work; my time wasn't exactly full and I was discovering you could have just too much free time. I'd never really been in that position before; there was always stuff that needed to be done. If I wasn't at Merlotte's there were chores in the house and yard and such, and living on my own as I'd done since Gran died if I didn't do them they didn't get done. I'd never sat around on my ass before and I'd always kind of envied folks who seemed to have time to be bored. Not any more. Time to be bored meant time to think.

"I've been assigned to Archives – you know, genealogy, all the past cases for the Assizes, that sort of thing, and I'm really enjoying it. It's not to everybody's taste, I know, but it think it'll suit me."

I pricked up my ears at this. Archives. "So you see all the trial notes and what everybody said and all?" _Hope rising_.

"They're called transcripts." She was proud of how quickly she was picking it up. "Yes, that's right. We're in the process of getting them all digitised at the moment. We really need the space since Nevada took over Arkansas and Louisiana. All the records that survived Katrina have been transferred here and computerising it all will save us a lot of room."

"I guess so. I suppose everything has to be real secure, huh? Lots of passwords and that sort of thing?" Real subtle, Sookie. Try to stay casual.

"Oh, yes. Some of the records are encrypted and can't be unsealed for five hundred years." _Hope fading_

"What type of thing would they do that for?" I _really_ needed to know the answer to this.

"Oh, you know, anything involving security issues or sensitive information. Five hundred years is nothing to a vampire."

_Damn. Hope gone._

"So, the treason trial they had here recently; that's all sealed up now, I guess."

"Not yet, I don't think. We're working on the backlog right now. We'll probably get to the current cases in a couple of weeks." _OK_. _Hope not completely gone._

She looked at her watch. "Well, I guess I'd better get back to work. It was so nice seeing you, Mrs Northman, and thanks again. If there's ever anything I can do for you, you just let me know, you hear? I mean it."

_Bingo!_

I looked at my watch. "Adelaide, when's your next break?"

She seemed surprised. "In about an hour, I think."

"Do you want to get a coffee or something?"

"Sure. That would be fun. Shall I see you back here then, Mrs Northman?"

"Please, call me Sookie."

"Thank you, Sookie; OK, I'll see you soon."

I headed out of the department, my mind buzzing. Was this a chance? Could I involve her in this whole mess? Could I afford _not_ to? Heaven knows I had tried hard enough to find out anything at all relating to Eric's trial, but vamps are just so secretive! I had to admit, it was a lot harder than I had thought it would be. Maybe this was the break I needed. I turned on my cellphone. When Eric had smashed my last one he had insisted on replacing it with a Nokia Gold-lock 3G; He wanted me to have the most secure cell available, and he said this one had military-level encryption. At the time I'd called him Mr Paranoid, but once again I found myself mentally thanking him. Paranoia has its uses. I sent a quick text to Mr C, telling him the latest development and asking him for advice. Soon a message came back, and I was all set. I just prayed the king didn't suddenly decide to summon me. This might be the only chance I got.

My prayer was answered. An hour later, Adelaide and I were collecting our coffees from the canteen and I suggested we take a stroll outside in the gardens. The chance of being overheard was a lot less. We wandered along to one of the little grottos where there was a tiny waterfall, and we perched on the mossy rocks overlooking a small pool where the water collected before bubbling away down a winding watercourse that lost itself in the trees. I figured if we spoke low enough, the sound of the water would help cover any noise just in case the trees were bugged. I was following my Viking's example. It had worked for him for a thousand years, so he must have been doing something right. Paranoid? Maybe. Still alive? Damn right.

We chatted together for a while, and she gradually relaxed. I told her about my work in general terms - no details. There was a confidentiality clause the length of a bible in my contract. I told her about my "gift", and she seemed totally cool with it. I guess working for vamps kind of opens you up to other possibilities. Anyhow, she didn't seem freaked; maybe because it was good old telepathy that got her out of a major jam. She thanked me again, and I said, "well, you know Adelaide, there is something you could do for me in return."

"Sure, name it."

How to approach this? I thought for a couple of seconds and decided to go for it.

"You know that treason trial I mentioned earlier?"

"Oh yeah, everyone was talking about it. Some big shot sheriff from Louisiana I heard."

"Did you also happen to hear his name?"

"Don't think so." She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, reckon not. Why?"

"His name was Eric Northman."

"Oh." It didn't register for a minute, and then she said, "oh!" but in a different tone of voice and looked at me. "Is he…?"

"He's my husband."

"Husband? But he's a vampire…oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in a bad way; I just never heard of a vampire marrying a human before. Not that it's a bad thing, at all, I mean, I'm…" I cut her off before she just burned up with embarrassment.

"No problem. I know you didn't mean anything. The thing is, Adelaide, he's innocent. I know he is, because I know who the real traitor is. He's the one who framed Eric."

Her eyes were wide as she stared at me. "Who is it?"

"I'd better not tell you. You know how quick vamps are at reading faces and body language. If he spotted you looking at him cross-eyed, he'd drain you before you could spit."

"Oh, yes. Good point." She thought it over for a few minutes, and then said, "so, how can I help you?" That was good. She was considering helping me before I even told her what I wanted.

I leaned forward and spoke even more quietly. "I wasn't at Eric's trial, so I have no idea what evidence they brought against him, or even who the witnesses were. If I could see all the paperwork relating to his case, I might be able to spot something, or I could pass it to someone else with more knowledge than me. I've got a really top lawyer."

She was silent again, but I wasn't picking up reluctance. She wasn't thinking about _whether_ to do it or not, but about _how_ to do it. I could have hugged her right there. I held my breath, not wanting to break her train of thought.

At last she said, "I can't give you the hard copies. There's no way of getting those out of the storage areas without a signed authorisation from someone on the judicial level."

_Damn!_

She continued, "but I've noticed we often get requests for copies of judgements or trial transcripts from vampires in other kingdoms, or even from our own. A lot of them are very interested in vampire history, and of course it's so much more real to them. Did you know, one of the vampires here remembers _Christopher Columbus? !"_ Her voice was awed, but I had to bring her back on track.

"Yeah, well my Eric is a Viking. He remembers William the Conqueror!" I don't know if this was true or not, but I wanted to get her thoughts back to Eric and our little situation here.

"Really? Wow! A Viking! So he's really old, then." She was impressed, I could tell.

"Yup, he's a real survivor, but right now he needs all the help he can get." That brought her focus back.

"Of course, yes. Well, as I was saying, a lot of the requests for information come by email, and of course we can't send them the originals, so we usually scan the documents and send them out electronically. Maybe I could just send the files to you by email? I send out so many in a day, no-one would notice one that wasn't attached to a formal request, I'm sure."

Damn! I was so disappointed. She looked real excited at having found a solution, but I had to dash her hopes.

"I'm sorry, Adelaide, but Security monitors my emails. They'd pick up on something like that in a second. We'll have to think of something else. "

"Well, do you know anyone else I could email it to? Someone you trust?"

"What about Mr Cataliades, my lawyer?"

"Oh no, anything that goes to anyone in the legal profession is always looked at really carefully. There are all sorts of implications regarding precedents and disclosure, so his name would ring alarm bells straight away." She looked thoughtful for a second.

"What we really need is a formal info request from someone who does this sort of thing a lot. Then this would just be another one and wouldn't look anything out of the ordinary. Do you know any vampires who are into historical research? Who might have contacted the department before?"

"I don't think so, most of the vamps…" my voice tailed away as a light bulb the size of the Goodyear blimp burst into life above my head. Bill! Bill Compton! Of course! If there was any vampire in Louisiana who would have been in touch with the Records office here it would be him, and his damn database! I was so excited I could barely breathe as I said,

"Can you remember seeing the name Bill Compton at all?"

To my delight she nodded and said, "Him? Oh yes, the people in the department are always talking about him. He's a bit of a joke really, because his requests come in nearly every day. Some people reckon that we wouldn't have a backlog at all if it wasn't for him. Do you know him, then?"

"Yes." I kept my voice steady. "Yes, I know him very well. Listen, Adelaide, can you tell me the information he would need to put in a request for this particular file? A reference, or name or anything like that?"

"Of course. Mind you, I don't have it now, but I could go back to the office and look it up. It wouldn't take but a minute. Do you want it now?"

"Yes, please, Adelaide, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not. Let's go do it right now." She got to her feet and so did I, and I couldn't help hugging her. This was the first hint of daylight I had had in two months; maybe things were starting to turn my way at last.

We hurried back to the complex and my new friend went off to find me the information I needed. I had done my best to make sure that she really understood why it had to be secret and that she knew the risks she was taking, but there was no hesitation. She was up for this. We agreed that she would scribble the info on page four of a newspaper and that she would walk through reception on her next coffee-break and drop it on a table for me to pick up. Then it would be up to me.

Three hours later I was in reception. Paul was on duty, but he was broadcasting misery like he'd bought a job lot of the stuff and had to use it all up before the sell-by date.

I waited until he'd finished checking in a party of visiting vamps and then went over to talk to him.

"Hey, Paul, what's up?"

"Nothing." He tried hard to smile, but it came out kind of wavery.

"Come on, buddy, I can see something's wrong. Tell me." I put my hand on his, and instantly got a reading from his mind. I couldn't let him know that I'd "heard" him, but it gave me a steer.

"Have you got a problem at college or something?" I knew damn well what is was, but I had to let him tell me. He looked at me like a wet Monday afternoon.

"They kicked me off the course."

I did shock-horror, and asked why. It was like pulling teeth, but at last I got him to tell me that he'd been kicked out for hacking into the main college server. Apparently this was a very clever but very bad thing to do. Although he was really low, I could feel a hint or two of pride in there, because the server was very well protected and it had taken a lot of work. He'd been caught because although he was smart enough to hack in, he was dumb enough to start altering his grades and those of his fellow-students. He'd raised his own and those of his friends and lowered those of the students he didn't like, and the IT staff had caught him by a process of elimination. They'd got together with his class tutors and figured out who had this particular friendship group and this particular hate-list, and there were only two candidates, one of whom was studying art, so it was not likely to be her. They'd confronted him with it and he'd cracked like an egg, and as a result was now off the course. Naturally, I sympathised massively, and suggested he could apply for jobs doing computer-y stuff as he was obviously good at it.

A thought struck me. "Hey, why don't you see if they need anyone in IT here? I'm getting involved in human resources these days, I'm sure I could help you if there are any vacancies."

Just then Adelaide came through the lobby. She had her purse in one hand and a newspaper under her arm. She put the paper down so she could root around for some change for the frozen yogurt machine (it had been installed yesterday, and was pretty good – I'd tried it myself this afternoon). Then she got her popsicle and headed to the canteen, smiling softly as she did so.

"Hey, is that today's paper?" I said to no-one in particular. "I haven't seen the news in a while," and I wandered across and picked it up. Glancing at the headlines, I nodded goodnight to Paul and headed for the elevator.

Back in my suite I read the paper very thoroughly –all of it, including the sports and the funnies - before getting out my cellphone and sending a text.

**Bill, I need your help**

I could almost see him sitting in his ante-bellum home, his handsome face lit only by the candlelight which he favoured when he was alone (assuming he was alone of course – mind you, if he had company, he wouldn't pick up the text, so I didn't beat myself up any for interrupting him).

I knew I was about to strain his friendship for me to the max; I didn't think he'd be real keen on helping me if it meant helping Eric, specially seeing as Eric wasn't even his sheriff now. Mind you, he'd sworn about a zillion times that he would do anything for me, even though we weren't together any more. He reckoned he owed me big-time for the way he had treated me in the past. Well, now I was about to call in that marker.

His reply came quicker than I'd hoped.

**What do you need?**

**Don't tell ANYONE and don't call me – my room may be bugged. Keep it to texts.**

**WHAT DO YOU NEED?**

Well, there's no need to shout, Bill. That's just rude!

**If I send you a ref. no. will you put in a formal info request RIGHT NOW to the Archives Dept here in Vegas?**

**Yes. Why?**

**Send your request for Ref No. FDC/98-43/NL to ****..kg**

**OK. Why?**

**When you get the file forward it AT ONCE to **

**OK. Why?**

Damn him – I was going to have to tell him something.

**Documents relating to Eric's trial. Lawyer needs them. Very confidential – tell no-one.**

Long pause this time. Was he thinking about what to do? Even about whether to do it? _C'mon Bill, PLEASE! I need this_! I was on the point of sending another text when my cell buzzed again.

**Request sent.**

Oh, thank goodness. Now we'd see what Adelaide could come up with. Once Mr C had the file, we might have a chance. I sat and stared at the TV for a while. I couldn't honestly say I watched it – I couldn't have told you what was on screen to save my life. My head was buzzing with possibilities, including all the things that could go wrong. I started to get wound up, and in the end got myself into such a state that I jumped a mile when my cell buzzed again. Another text from Bill.

**File arrived but encrypted. Now what?**

Oh hell. Now what indeed?


	12. Chapter 12

**Well, here it is; my latest shot at an EPOV. Please be kind; I've sweated blood over this. A huge thank you to Mia for her help with info on Sweden. Any errors are mine and not hers.**

**All reviews gratefully received. Enjoy.**

Chapter 12

EPOV

"Sookie…" As I came out of the death-sleep I was aware of her name on my lips and knew that once again I had been dreaming of her. I tried to re-capture the fugitive moment, but it was gone. As often as I dreamed of her, I could never remember the details; I only knew that we were apart.

As ever, I did not rise immediately but lay still, searching the bond for her, and as ever, I found her. My great age allowed me so much control over, and sensitivity to, our blood-bond that I was able to feel her faintly across the miles that separated us. I knew that in all probability she could not sense me, and I wondered for how long she would keep the faith. Each night I feared that I would seek her in vain; that she would have grown weary of pouring her love into the void, with no answer, and yet each night she was true to her word. I did not know how much longer I would have this solace – after a month, our bond was almost exhausted. I dreaded the dark days ahead, when all contact would be severed.

I lay in the dark, my portrait of her resting above my silent heart, feeling her love flowing over me for a full fifteen minutes. It never faltered. There was never a hint of doubt or fear; only love and hope and reassurance (_she_ was trying to reassure _me!) _although there were brief pauses during which I sent my undying love to her with all my strength, knowing the futility of the gesture but unable to deny the faint hope that maybe something would get through. I was determined to find a way to send her a clandestine message, in the hope that it would give her some small measure of comfort. Heaven knows she needed it.

At last she faded out, and I rose. The light-proof blinds had drawn back automatically with nightfall, and I strolled across to the windows of my suite and looked out at the Royal Palace. The view was superb, but then, it should have been. This was the penthouse of the Grand; it was the most expensive hotel in Sweden, never mind Stockholm, but that did not trouble me. Had I wished, I could have purchased the entire hotel, not just hired their best rooms.

I smiled slightly as I thought of Sookie's desperate efforts to ensure that I was provided for financially. Cataliades had told me of her care for me, and I was both amused and deeply touched that my little love had been so concerned for my welfare. Apparently she was worried that I would arrive in Sweden with nothing but the clothes I stood up in.

At times I had to remind myself of how very little she knew of vampires' lives before the Great Revelation. Her induction into our world had been very intense, and at times extremely dangerous, but it had not included any of our history. She was not aware that for centuries we had lived with the knowledge that we could be forced to flee for our lives at a second's notice. Every vampire with the means to do so had safe-houses; escape routes; secret caches of money and clothing; false identities with supporting documentation. This is how we had survived, and I still maintained the habit out of caution. The bad old days could always return. I had six houses in Sweden alone, plus innumerable other properties scattered throughout the world, which no-one in America knew about. Not even Pam. I had agents on retainer in over forty countries, who were paid to make themselves available to me whenever I summoned them.

My most recent departure from America had not been secret, but it had not been pleasant either. Fortunately for me, Anubis Airlines had been booked solidly until the early hours of the morning, and so Cataliades had plenty of time with me in my cell before my flight. He was there when I discovered a card from Sookie in my breast pocket, and he had the good manners to leave the cell while I examined it, on the pretext of retrieving my possessions, both from the Were guards and from my room on Level Five.

I was puzzled by her choice of card – it was decorated rather garishly with blue and pink butterflies – but I concluded that she must have been forced to make do with whatever was available. Inside there was a lock of her hair and the words:

_Yours for ever_

_Sookie_

I was glad there was no-one to see me as I read them. After a few minutes I wiped my eyes and removed the tress from the card, stroking it as it lay coiled in my hand, gleaming like sunlight on the water. My dearest loved the sun, and I loved to smell the sunlight on her skin. She would always remind me of sunlight. She _was_ my sunlight. I twined the silky hair round my fingers, and it gave off a faint hint of her scent. As I waited for the lawyer to return, I tried to compose a note in response to hers. I had some expensive cream-laid notepaper in my luggage, which I had used for the messages which had accompanied the small gifts I had sent her during my absence, but when he came back and I sat with my pen in my hand ( a more tasteful example of Mont blanc's craftsmanship than Madden's!), the words dried up. I ruined nearly a dozen sheets of paper before I achieved something acceptable, and even that fell pitifully short of what I wanted to say, but it would have to do.

I gave the note to Cataliades, along with a gift for Sookie which I had purchased before my arrest, and he undertook to deliver them for me. Then I checked over my belongings before packing them all carefully. My cellphone was missing. Victor had obviously not returned it after using it to lure Sookie here. I considered drawing attention to this, but decided it would look petty and achieve nothing. A phone was easily replaced, and the contents of the one he had stolen would be valueless to him. Anything sensitive was heavily encrypted and he would have no chance of retrieving the data without an extensive knowledge of Old Norse.

The lawyer and I had talked quite freely in the cell, keeping our backs turned to the catwalk, in case anyone was watching. Foolishly, in my opinion, there was no electronic surveillance of any sort. It had apparently never been thought necessary, as guards were always present with the unfortunates who found themselves incarcerated here. This was a weakness that I was happy to exploit, and I gave him as much detailed information as possible regarding my property. Fortunately, my memory is extremely good and so was his; he did not even take notes. I had been delighted to learn that the idea for the deed of transfer had been Sookie's; What a woman! I was hugely proud of her and told him to tell her so.

When the Were guards finally came to escort me to the airport, he insisted on accompanying me. He said Sookie would expect no less of him.

Even though I was no longer under sentence of death I was still a convicted criminal, and my jailers were determined to ensure that I did not forget the fact. I was handcuffed in the car to the airport, in the airport lounge and on the plane right up until just before take-off. As they were not made of silver, they served no practical purpose except as a means to embarrass me; to force me to appear in public as a felon. I could have removed them at any point, but Felipe's men knew I would not do so while Sookie was effectively a hostage for my compliance. For myself, I was indifferent to the handcuffs; In fact, they seemed to cause more embarrassment to my fellow-passengers than to me. I observed numerous sidelong glances from solid citizens in the departure lounge, and I took a certain quiet pleasure in catching their eyes and winking at them, at which point they usually looked away hurriedly, except for one male child, who came nearer and nearer to where I sat, staring at me in apparent fascination.

I was equally fascinated. I had had very little to do with human children in recent times; I had not fed on one in decades, although their blood is sweeter than that of adults. As the little morsel gazed at me with its finger in its mouth I racked my brains, searching for a particular adjective that I had heard at some point in the past. I knew there was a word that described something edible that is like a smaller version of the full-sized object, and I searched my memory until, at last, it came to me.

_Bite-sized_.

That was it.

How very appropriate. The bite-sized child held out its hand, offering me a sticky confection made of boiled crystallised sugar and dyed an unpleasant shade of green. I smiled and said, "no thank you," and its parent hustled it away.

I had noticed a cellphone franchise in the concourse, and I sent Cataliades to purchase me a temporary replacement for my missing Nokia Gold-lock. He hurried away and returned with the best in their stock, which was apparently not saying very much. It was not secure, but I would not be making any sensitive calls on it, and I would crush it as soon as I obtained a new Gold-lock. Then my flight was called, I boarded, and my handcuffs were removed. Cataliades left me with assurances that he would be following my dearest to Shreveport within two days.

No sooner had the flight taken off than I plugged my new cell into the charger socket by the seat and called my agent in Stockholm, and by the time I arrived at Arlanda airport he was there to meet me with one of my limousines. Of course, it was not Eric Northman he was meeting; Eric Northman, convicted traitor, might have left Las Vegas, but it was Leif Anderssen, respected businessman and entrepreneur who was whisked through Swedish customs (a hint of glamour dealt with any minor discrepancies over the passenger-list and the complete absence of a passport) and who was then chauffeur-driven through the city to be welcomed personally by the hotel manager before being escorted to the penthouse. Leif had stayed here many times over the years and was a welcome guest.

I was distracted from my thoughts by a knock at the door. Room Service, on time as expected. I called "Come in," and the waiter entered with my breakfast on a tray. I had selected a carafe of blonde, female, A positive from the menu last night, served at 38 degrees – I liked it slightly warmer than body temperature; I found it released more of the bouquet. He was completely undisturbed by my nakedness – this was Sweden. He set the tray down on the table and left as quietly as he had come, not waiting for a tip. Staff at this level were expected to offer perfect service without the incentive of additional rewards, and they were paid accordingly. I found this convenient as there were no pockets in my current state of dress.

I came away from the window and poured myself a glass of blood. I would have preferred to feed from the living donor, but my fangs had not yet fully grown back. They were now visible, almost level with my normal teeth, but it would be at least another month before they were completely restored. In most vampires, it would take at least three months for them to regenerate, but my healing abilities were accelerated because of my age. I had been extremely careful to remain even-tempered in my meetings over the last four weeks; Vampires tend to extend their fangs involuntarily when angry and I had not wanted any of the vampires or humans I had encountered to notice my inability to do so, as this would undermine my status in the community. Of course, none of them knew what had happened in America, and I was going to keep it that way.

The bedside phone rang, and the receptionist said, "A parcel from Bolin's has arrived for you, sir. Do you wish us to sign for it, or would you care to collect it yourself?"

"Send it up please." This was the package I had been expecting for some days now. Bolin's were purveyors of jewellery to the Royal Swedish Court, and had been in business for over two hundred years, and I had entrusted to them the task of creating a suitable setting for my beloved's gift to me. On consideration, I had given them only half the lock of hair, coiling the other half and enclosing it in the locket I wore on a new gold chain. I was eager to see how they had carried out my orders, and when the parcel arrived I unwrapped it impatiently.

It was very lovely. They had created a delicate gold filigree basket on four graceful feet, cradling a crystal globe; the lock of hair, no less golden, was suspended in the exact centre of the orb as though in water, coiling gracefully on itself. I handled it carefully, inspecting it from all angles until I was satisfied that it was flawless. Then I packed it back in its velvet-lined box of white leather, ready for my journey.

This evening I was moving out of the penthouse and travelling back to the area I had known when human.

I finished my meal, showered and dressed before calling down for my Ferrari Testarossa to be gassed up and brought round. The porter came up and removed my bags while I settled the bill and just over an hour after rising I was travelling west on the E4 through the darkness.

As I drove, I reflected that it was some years since I had been back to my human home. I had not dared to visit for several hundred years after my death; initially in case I met anyone who remembered me, and later because the memories of my family and my human life were too painful, but gradually I had attained enough emotional distance to be able to return. By the time I did go back everything was changed. My settlement was no longer there; I never found out why it had vanished, but the usual pattern was for populations to migrate south to kinder lands, with fertile soil, better grazing and warmer waters. The few remaining homesteads had crumbled into ruins and even the boundary markers were gone. I had not stayed long that first time.

Since then I had gone back periodically, and as soon as there was sufficient infrastructure and bureaucracy I had purchased as much of the land as I could afford, adding more from time to time under different names and using different companies until now I owned some forty square miles of coastland and forest. I had permitted small rural settlements in the area (I had to feed somewhere), but the solitude was almost total.

In the last century I had built a small cabin on a headland looking out towards Skagerrak and the North Sea. It was very basic - a living area, a lightproof daychamber and a shower-room served by a tank on the roof which collected rainwater - but it served my needs when I visited. I came for a week or so at a time – I could not afford to leave my Area for any longer in the early days – and I spent my nights reading or walking, swimming or just sitting on the verandah enjoying downtime. Sometimes I fished from a boat which I anchored out in the bay. The peace was very necessary to me. Although I enjoyed being sheriff, there were times when I grew weary of the incessant demands for my attention, and then I came here.

I knew the spot well – I had roamed all over it when I was a boy, and there was a tiny, rocky little islet out in the bay which had been my own special place. When my father had been angry with me or my mother wished me to take care of my baby sister, I would escape there in a crazy little boat that I had built myself, and hide from everyone, spending hours sunning myself on the rocks and dreaming of the day when I would be a great warrior and would take ship with my fellow Vikings. The islet was still there, although it was covered with full-size pine trees now.

During the last month I had made arrangements through my Göteborg agent to have the facilities upgraded, as I would probably be staying longer than a week. I needed electricity, and broadband. I wanted a fridge and microwave installed, for TrueBlood. This had not been necessary on previous visits, as my meals had been fresh. I also wanted a computer, in order to keep in touch with my business interests here in Europe. The cost of laying these on in such a remote spot was astronomical, of course; the nearest road was an hour's hike away, and everything would have to be brought in by boat and winched up the cliff, but that was not my concern. I had told him what I wished, and given him a completion date and it was his job to see it done. His text advising me that the work was finished had arrived the previous night, but it had been too late to set out then. It was roughly four hundred miles to Göteborg from Stockholm, and a further eighty-five to the cabin. For this reason, I would stay in my home in Göteborg during the day and then head north tomorrow night. Thus I would arrive there with sufficient hours of darkness to settle in.

Even at just over 100mph the drive was tedious, so I put a CD on. Paul Simon suited my mood. There was one track in particular which appealed to me; Kathy's song.

_My mind's distracted and diffused,_

_My thoughts are many miles away.  
They lie with you when you're asleep_

_And kiss you when you start your day._

I glanced at my watch. My love would be starting her day in a couple of hours. I bent my mind to considering how best to get a message to her as I continued to drive through the night until my watch beeped, when I pulled to the side of the road and retrieved her portrait from under my shirt. I gazed at it for a few minutes in the dash light of the car, wondering what she was doing and if she was thinking of me, and then I tucked it away and drove on until the lights of Göteborg showed ahead of me and I called Hjalmar, my agent. He answered on the second ring and told me he was waiting for me at the house.

Once again, as I put the phone back on its cradle, I was tempted to send a text to Sookie, and once again I resisted the temptation. When I had acquired my new secure phone I had agonised over whether to contact her or not. She could not call me, as she did not have my new number, but if I called her I could not be sure that no-one else had access to her phone. For all I knew, Victor had seized that one too; she was only human, and very vulnerable. One text could be her death-warrant; I could not risk it. I drove on and forty minutes later I pulled into my drive to see Hjalmar at the front door. I eased myself from the car and went inside, leaving him to bring in the bags.

Once inside I inhaled briefly, testing the air for staleness or dust. I expected my homes to be kept in a state of readiness for me, and was pleased to detect only the scents of furniture polish and fresh flowers. I was pleased with Hjalmar, and told him so when he came in from garaging the Ferrari.

I sat on the white leather couch while he gave me his report on the improvements at my cabin. It was satisfactory. The weather had been kind and the seas not too rough to delay my plans, and the work had been completed on schedule. He had purchased and installed a new high-spec computer, together with a laptop in case I wished to work outside.

Next I examined his updates on my businesses in Göteborg and the surrounding area. I had spent the last month visiting my employees in and around Stockholm, and had on the whole been satisfied. There had been a few individuals who had been fired for laziness or incompetence, and I had killed one _pour encourager les autres._ He had stolen from me, but I had not killed him for that; I had killed him for his stupidity in getting caught. I did not employ stupid people. I had also promoted several people and given substantial bonuses to a great many more. I believed in positive incentives; There was an expression which I had heard some years earlier, which I had liked; "If you pay peanuts, you get monkeys." It was punchy and memorable and expressed my sentiments exactly. I did not pay peanuts and I did not expect to employ monkeys, but there was always a certain laxness when one was an absentee boss, and it paid to be firm when necessary.

I approved Hjalmar's reports before dismissing him for the day, and he left with a sigh of relief. I had sensed his nervousness. He operated on his own for much of the time, making decisions on my behalf, and he was naturally concerned that I would endorse them. I considered promoting him; he had been efficient, discreet and obedient; all qualities I valued.

Then I made my way upstairs to find the bed freshly made up with silk sheets and my preferred goosedown pillows, together with Paco Rabanne toiletries in the shower-room, and fresh supplies of TrueBlood Royalty Blended in the small fridge on the landing. If I had to drink synthetics, this was the least vile. Hjalmar had done very well. As I went to my rest, I decided that I would definitely promote him. Who knows, maybe he would be the right man to entrust with ensuring that my message reached Sookie. He could also assist me to get in touch with Compton. Much as it went against the grain, Bill had access to information which I needed.

The next night I headed north on the E6 as far as Udevalla, where I garaged my car in an industrial unit off the Kurödsvägen to the north-east of the town. The last leg of my journey I would fly, taking with me only the things I would immediately need. There was no road to my cabin, so Hjalmar would bring the rest of the luggage tomorrow, in his car as far as he was able to do so, and then on foot for the final stretch.

Inside the garage I swiftly transferred my selection to a rucksack and changed into all-black clothing (one was less noticeable in the sky) before locking the unit and launching myself upwards. It was the first time I had flown since I left America, and the feeling of freedom was exhilarating. The air rushed past me, whipping through my hair, which was growing back nicely. I ascended until I was high enough to avoid any buildings or power-cables, and flew in a wide circle, getting my bearings before heading west.

Initially I flew over urbanised areas, but gradually the lights fell behind me and the countryside grew steadily wilder and less inhabited; more heavily forested, with moonlight glinting on the Havstensfjord on my left. Ahead of me I could see the open sea – Skagerrak. I knew I was near my destination, and I could smell the salt in the air.

I hit the coast slightly south of my home, and turned north following the coastline with the sea on my left. It looked very beautiful in the moonlight; I could see the waves foaming against the cliffs, the frills of surf showing white where they struck the land.

At last the bay opened up before me, with the small islet showing as a dark shape against the silver water and my cabin was clearly visible on the headland. I did not go straight to it, but landed on the beach at the base of the cliff.

The steel shutters which secured and light-proofed my home could only be unfastened from within, so that no-one outside could let daylight in, accidentally or intentionally. As with all vampire homes, there was a second, secret entrance, in this case leading up from the beach. Early in the 20th century I had kidnapped a mining engineer and his entire crew in order to blast the tunnel and shape the steps through the solid rock. I had covered their disappearance from the silver mine near Uppsala where they had been working by faking a rockfall, and after they completed the work, I had returned them to the same place, glamouring them into believing that they had spent the last eight days digging their way out. The entrance to the passage was concealed behind a similar rockfall, but at vampire speed it took less than five minutes to create a gap large enough to pass through and then seal it up again afterwards. It would have become tedious if I had had to do this every time I entered or left the cabin, but it was only necessary at the start and finish of each visit, and was worth it for the enhanced security it offered. The only other person who knew of this entrance was Hjalmar. He had needed the information in order to supervise the improvements, but tomorrow I intended to glamour him into forgetfulness. Naturally, it had taken him a lot longer to move the rocks, but the exercise had probably benefitted him. He was slightly overweight.

I blocked the gap behind me, mounted the steps in the dark and operated the locking mechanism which gave admittance into the false wall next to the shower-room. I stepped out into my windowless daychamber and closed the panel behind me before going straight through to the living area. I located the new light switch and threw it with a feeling of pleasure as the overhead lights came on. For the previous century I had used gas lamps and candles. I made a quick tour of the premises, noting the improvements. The fridge was well-stocked, the microwave was the latest model from Vamptech Industries (in which I owned a 30% share) and the computer appeared to be up to spec. There was also an expensive Bang & Olufsen hi-fi which I had not asked for, but which pleased me nonetheless as it showed that Hjalmar was anticipating my needs. The technology looked a little incongruous with my antique decor. I had hung many of my trophies from my earlier life on the walls; weapons, tapestries and the like. Over the centuries I had tended to hoard things that I had enjoyed for their beauty or their associations, and I now used them to decorate my many homes. The mix was usually quite eclectic, but here I would have only relics from my youth. My broadsword hung over the fireplace, and I smiled and touched the blade for luck.

Next I unbolted the shutters and stepped out through the glass doors onto the verandah. I normally kept a rocking-chair and table there, but they were stored inside when I was not in residence. I brought them both out, and aligned them carefully before strolling to the edge of the cliff some ten yards away and looking down into the bay. I could see my island below, and was tempted to fly out there straight away, but decided against it. I had plans for its use, but they would have to wait until tomorrow night, when the rest of my luggage arrived.

I retrieved a TrueBlood from the fridge and sat in my rocking-chair, looking west. Tomorrow I would speak to Hjalmar about sending a message to Sookie. I had finally decided on a method which had been used successfully by the Dutch Resistance in World War 2. It would take some time to set up, but should be safe.

I sipped my drink slowly, watching the stars as they wheeled across the sky, waiting for the alarm on my watch to sound, thinking of her.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

SPOV

"Can I help you ma'am?" The question came from the pretty brunette behind the reception desk (name badge, Tiffany). I said,

"Oh, hi. You're new here aren't you? What happened to the regular guy?"

"Paul? I'm sorry, I'm afraid he handed in his notice yesterday. I don't know where he's gone."

That was okay; I knew exactly where he'd gone and exactly what he was doing. He was in an ante-bellum house next to the cemetery just off Hummingbird Road in Bon Temps, and he was fighting with a stubbornly encrypted file (I hoped).

It hadn't taken too much to persuade Paul to give up his dead-end job here and come work for Bill (for Bill, read me). He had never been happy here, his college dreams had gone west and I had offered him $5,000 plus enough money to start up his own IT consultancy business if he could crack the security on that pesky file. Bill had wrestled with it for a week and had gotten nowhere. Although he'd tried real hard, I guess his skills were just more concentrated on using computers rather than crawling round inside the programs; the real nerdy stuff which Paul seemed to love.

Mind you, he hadn't been real keen on going and living with a vampire, but I knew that Bill's old-fashioned courtesy would soon win him round. What he had really hated was the way the Vegas vamps treated him like slime. Bill had been mainstreaming for a good while and didn't tend to think of humans as disposable, and this showed in the way he behaved around them. Paul had been there for three days now, and the texts I was receiving suggested they were getting on just fine. He'd gotten through the first level of security and seemed really hopeful about cracking the next one. He'd also helped Bill with his database, refining it and speeding it up in some way which I didn't understand but which Bill said was really useful. At least they had something in common.

"OK, never mind. Thanks anyway. Nice to meet you, Tiffany. I'll see you around."

I smiled my thanks at the new receptionist and moved off to the elevators. It was nearly time for work, and I'd just been in the canteen topping up my caffeine supplies for the night. I'd been feeling a bit run-down recently, and sometimes I found it hard to stay awake all evening. I think I'd lost some weight too, but that probably wasn't a bad thing.

On the fifth floor I hit the Gauguin room, collecting my clipboard and scanning the seats. There was quite a long list tonight, and the room was pretty full. There were a lot of vampires milling around, with quite a few human companions among them. I was just running down the list when a real aristocratic voice spoke to me.

"Excuse me, madam, but do I have the honour of addressing Mrs Northman?"

The last time I'd heard that expression, it had been Victor Madden on the night of the Nevada takeover. I turned with a real snarky comment at the ready, but it died on my lips as I looked up at a really distinguished-looking vampire. He was tall and slim, with slicked back dark hair and dark eyes above a sharp nose and a thin-lipped humorous mouth. His human age was about forty (there was just a tiny touch of grey at his temples) but I hadn't a clue about his vampire age. His clothes were beautiful; very understated, but he wore them so well and they fitted so perfectly that he just oozed quality. He seemed real old-fashioned and dignified, he even carried a gold-topped cane. And that accent! Where did he get off, talking like he was straight off the boat from Victorian England? Well, maybe he was.

I swallowed my sarcasm and said, "yes, I'm Mrs Northman," and nodded to him. This was the traditional vamp greeting, as they weren't usually touchy-feely types, but to my outward embarrassment (and inward delight) he took my hand, bowed over it gracefully and kissed the tips of my fingers. Then he straightened up releasing my hand and said,

"Please permit me to introduce myself. Edward, Lord Eskham, at your service, madam."

A thought shot through my mind that this was the sort of elegance that Victor Madden was always trying to achieve with his "dear lady," this and "alas" that but he just never got near this guy's natural class. I guess you had to be born with it (no matter how long ago). I smiled and said,

"I'm pleased to meet you, uh, Edward? Lord Edward? Sorry, what do I call you?

He smiled back (very good teeth, unusual for a Brit) and said, "I am afraid the English system of nomenclature for the nobility is somewhat complicated. My name is Edward Hamilton, and my title is Lord Eskham. I would only be Lord Edward if I were the younger son of a Duke or an Earl. No, I am Eskham to my peers, Lord Eskham to strangers, and (here he bowed slightly) Edward to my friends, if I may be permitted to count you among them?" Although he was real charming, I was slightly suspicious at this sort of approach from a vamp I'd never met before. He must have picked up on my hesitation because he continued, "I believe we have a mutual acquaintance; Mr Compton of Bon Temps?"

OK, that was a start, but I wasn't willing to roll over on my back and wave my paws in the air just yet. Anyone could claim they knew Bill. I replied politely, "Why yes, Bill's a neighbour. How do you come to know him?"

"I have been travelling in your beautiful country, and I stayed with him last night. He was very much occupied on a computer project together with a young human named Paul, I believe."

That was good enough. If he knew Paul was there, and what he was doing, Bill must trust him. I was just about to respond more warmly to him, when I became aware of something nagging at me; something that didn't feel right. Although I couldn't tell you what, I had registered something unusual over on my left.

I murmured, "Would you all excuse me just a second? I think…" I was looking around, wondering why the alarm bells were ringing, and then I spotted it.

Over by the TrueBlood fountains there was a human with no vamp close by. That in itself was a bit odd; companions didn't normally wander off on their own when in company, but it was just possible he was getting a drink for his vamp. His clothes weren't right, either. Everyone else was dressed real formal for an interview with the vampire king, but he had a sports jacket on. I glanced round, but there was no vampire who appeared to be waiting for him to come back. As I watched him for a minute he looked over his shoulder and there was something a bit hinky about his body language. Ah oh. I dived into his mind as Lord Eskham took my arm, puzzled at my odd behaviour.

"_…"_

Steve Newlyn! Oh shit! The man slipped something into his pocket and I took a deep breath and yelled at the top of my voice "Fellowship Of The Sun!"

Every vampire in the room suddenly focussed on me and then followed my pointing finger. "He's with FOTS!" I shouted again. "He's put sino-Aids virus in the TrueBlood!"

The young man paled and all of the Were guards in sight came shouldering their way through the crowds towards him. His mind filled with terror and suddenly he was looking over my shoulder at someone behind me. He yelled, "Now!" and then he was seized by the guards and forced to the ground, his face pressed to the carpet. I span round just in time to see a similarly dressed young man with a drink in one hand and a cigarette lighter in the other step away from the bar. His mind was just full of fear and hate, but before I could react he had used the lighter to set fire to the spirits in his glass and then stepped forward and flung the flaming liquid over the tall vampire standing next to me.

Fire! The room filled with screams of terror from the humans and the vampires shrank back. They were incredibly vulnerable to fire, going up like a torch if they were caught in it. Lord Eskham's hair was ablaze and he fell to the ground screaming horribly, but the Weres were all occupied with the guy on the floor, none of the vamps would help and all the humans seemed paralysed with shock. I couldn't just stand there and watch him fry; I snatched my jacket off and leaped forward beating at the flames, trying to smother them with my hands. The pain was agonising but I kept at it, sobbing with sheer terror, until the flames were all extinguished and I was kneeling next to him coughing painfully from the lungful of burning vampire I'd just inhaled. The smell was foul and I was doubled up retching when I heard a warning shout behind me, but before I could turn round a black pit opened up and I fell headlong into it.

"Sookie, my child, can you hear me?"

I swam up from the black depths towards a red light that gradually got paler and paler until I could see a face bending over me. There was a brilliant white light around it which made my eyes water, but I blinked the tears away and tried to focus, and then I recognised the features.

"Niall?" My fairy great-grandfather! I hadn't seen him in way too long. I tried to lift my hand to him but found I couldn't move.

"Yes, my child, it is I. How do you feel?"

"I thought you were locked away in Faerie… how come you're here?" A thought struck me. "Or am I there?"

My great-grandfather smiled. "No, child, you are still very much in the human realm, but you are only semi-conscious, which is why you can hear me. Even though my body is in Faerie, I have the power to project my voice and appearance, but it is easier to do so when your shields are down, as they are at the moment. Again, how do you feel?"

I didn't need to think about that. My head was splitting and my hands felt like they were still in the fire. "My hands hurt. And my head. What happened? I remember helping Lord Eskam, but then it all went dark."

"I understand the second fanatic struck you on the back of the skull while you were aiding the burning vampire, which has caused your headache. As for your hands, I am afraid they are quite badly burned. That is what called me to you. I am always concerned for your well-being, and when I became aware that you had been seriously injured I projected to you to bring you what comfort I could."

I tried to lift my hands to see them, but couldn't.

"Can you make them better?"

"I only wish I could, but fire is an earth element, and our family have power only over the elements of air. I cannot heal you, but I can ease your pain."

He laid his shining hand on my forehead. Even though it wasn't real, it felt cool and the stinging and throbbing in my head and both my hands and wrists began to ease. I saw him smile.

"You have been very brave. I am proud of you, Sookie."

"I couldn't just let him burn."

"I was not just referring to your helping the vampire. I am speaking of your fidelity to the man you love. I have watched you struggle against your loneliness and your fear that he will forget you, and I have been moved by your courage. You are surrounded by danger here, but you have refused to give in. You are truly worthy to be my kin. I must go now, child, but one thing more I can do for you. You have been afraid that you are being spied upon while you are here, and this has destroyed your peace of mind. I am going to set a charm which will prevent any listening or spying device from operating within your living quarters. While you are here, you will have the peace and privacy you crave. Your proof will be that a Were guard will visit you on some pretext or other before the night is over. He will be attempting to establish why his devices no longer function. Now, be strong, my dear child, get well, and I will see you again before too long. I promise."

I had an urgent thought.

"Grandfather, if you can project yourself, can you take a message to Eric for me? Please…?"

I don't even know if he heard me; he was already fading. I tried to sit up but the effort was too much, the room swam round me and I sank back into darkness.

The next time I came round the light in my room was normal, but the face hanging over me this time wasn't nearly as attractive as my great-grandfather's.

"Well, girly, how you feeling?"

"Dr Ludwig!"

"Well, at least the bump on the head hasn't scrambled your brains completely." The tiny Supe doctor turned away briefly and I looked around. I was lying in my own bed, and the picture window was turned off. Oh no! How long had I been out? Had I missed Eric's rising? I panicked and looked at my watch, but when I lifted my wrist all I could see was heavy bandaging.

"What time is it? How long have I been unconscious? Where's my watch? _What time is it?"_ I tried to struggle upright, but the little doctor turned back and put her hands on my shoulders, holding me down. She was amazingly strong (or I was really, really weak) and I couldn't move while she held me. Tears began to fill my eyes, but I couldn't wipe them away. "Please, Doctor Ludwig," I whispered. "I have to know."

I couldn't honestly say her homely face showed compassion, but there was something there that might have been a distant relative of that emotion – say a third cousin twice removed.

"Don't worry girly, you haven't missed a thing. It's two- thirty am, if you must know. _Vegas time." _She knew why I was asking. I breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank the Lord. If I'd missed my appointment with Eric, I don't know what I'd have done. I hated to think that he might have been listening out for me and been disappointed. (Oh, who was I kidding? I knew damn well he couldn't hear me, but I had to keep telling myself there was a chance, or what was the point in going on?). Whatever, I hadn't missed it.

Dr Ludwig sat me upright and ran her hands over the back of my head. I yelped when she touched what felt like a lump the size of a watermelon, but she nodded in satisfaction. "Nothing there that time and a good night's rest won't cure. Are you in pain?"

I thought about that for a moment, and then shook my head. Whatever Niall had done, it seemed to be working.

"Hmmm. You should be." She considered me for a moment, and then climbed back onto the floor (I guess she must have been standing on a step or something) and turned and faced me. "The head's going to be fine. The hands are a different matter. Even if you're not in pain, there's a lot of damage there. Seventy per cent burns, at least. You'll need vampire blood to heal that. Is there anyone here you feed from?"

The answer came instantly, "No!"

"Anyone else we can call in?"

The tears welled up. "No."

"Don't be stubborn, girl. There must be someone."

"Eric," I whispered.

"Well, he's not going to be able to help you, he's twelve thousand miles away. What about Compton, or that Ravenscroft woman?"

I shook my head. "Eric," I repeated. The tears were falling fast now. "If not him, then no-one." I wouldn't (_couldn't!) _ take anyone else's blood. Not now. Not ever.

She passed me a kleenex, and looked as though she was about to say something else, but just then a voice at the door said, "May I come in?" and there was the king. It was the first time he'd ever visited my suite. He advanced towards the bed, and Dr Ludwig moved aside. I wasn't sure of the protocol for this situation; if sitting in the presence of the king was forbidden, I guessed lying in bed was pretty taboo as well but he didn't appear to notice. He stood by the bed, looking down at me. I must have looked like hell, with my hair all over the place and my make-up running from the tears. His gaze fastened on my bandaged hands, and he winced a little.

"My dear Mrs Northman," he said, "how can we thank you? Your prompt action tonight saved the lives of a great many prominent members of the vampire community. The FOTS lunatic had indeed poured Sino-Aids virus into the drinking fountain, and it would have infected many of my guests. Lord Eskham is also very grateful for your brave intervention on his behalf."

"Is he going to be alright?" Last I'd seen of the aristocratic vamp, he'd been an unmoving heap on the floor, still smoking slightly.

"He will be fine. He is already healing, and he has indicated that he would like to pay you a visit when you are stronger, to thank you in person." Just then I heard a slight noise through the open door, and looked that way. The king said, "Do not be alarmed; merely one of my guards. Meanwhile, what may we do to aid your recovery?" He looked over at Dr Ludwig.

"She needs a break."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, she needs a break." Dr L's voice was uncompromising. "Look at her. She's losing weight, she's pale, she's shaking and her hands are seriously damaged. She'll regain the function in them, but they'll never look pretty again. She needs a holiday somewhere nice and warm and sunny."

The king looked puzzled. "It is sunny here in Nevada."

"I'm talking about a _holiday_, somewhere she can relax, get a little colour back; a nice hotel, preferably with a beach. I'd recommend Mexico."

"Impossible. We have the Sheriff's Ball coming up in two weeks and I cannot possibly do without her at the moment. I will need her on hand to deal with the human contractors and any human guests."

Dr Ludwig shrugged. "You asked what she needed to recover. That's what she needs. If you want my professional opinion, if she doesn't get some R & R soon you may have her up until the Sheriff's Ball but you won't have her for much beyond it. Her mental faculties will become impaired and she'll be useless to you. She's not a vamp, she doesn't have your stamina." She turned to me as I lay in the bed between them, listening to them discuss me. "How are your sleep patterns? Are you falling asleep when you shouldn't? Having to drink coffee to stay awake?"

"Well, yes, I am." She turned back to the king.

"Thought so. She's got the shakes from too much caffeine, and the reason most humans associated with vamps drink coffee is to help them stay awake at night. Her body can't take it long-term. She's not completely adapted to being nocturnal, and although she's coped so far, she'll crack eventually. That, plus the strain she's under, means she's heading for a breakdown unless you give her a rest. My advice is, let her go away next week and she'll be back in plenty of time to help with the ball. Don't let her go and you'll have a basket case on your hands in less than a month. Take it or leave it." I don't know how she got away with it, speaking like that to a vampire king, but he took it from her. Eric had always said she was no fan of the fang, and boy could you tell! She seemed to have a pretty high standing within the Supe community, though, and she certainly took full advantage of it.

The king turned back to me. "Mrs Northman, do you feel that a short break would benefit your recovery?"

"Yes, please, your majesty." My voice was barely more than a whisper; the prospect of getting away was suddenly so enticing that I could hardly breathe.

"Then I will consider your suggestion, Doctor Ludwig."

"You'd better do a damn sight more than consider it, or you're going to be short one telepath. Now she needs to rest. Time you were gone." The doctor was practically shooing the king out of the room! As he turned to go a Were guard appeared in the doorway. The king looked at him, and the guard gave the tiniest shake of the head. If I hadn't been on the watch for it, I'd have missed it, but as it was I remembered Niall's words about a Were visitor before the night was over. That seemed to confirm that my great-grandfather's promise had not been a dream. I had wondered.

Dr Ludwig dried the tears off my face and then helped me sit up and drink some cold mint tea from a thermos someone had put on the nightstand. I hadn't realised how thirsty I was.

"Do you want something to help you sleep?" she asked, but I shook my head. I was so tired I knew I would drop off the instant I was left to myself, so she began to pack her medical bag, getting ready to leave. My eyes were beginning to close when suddenly I jerked awake.

"My watch! Dr Ludwig, where's my sunset watch? And Eric's bracelet? I have to have them. I have to!" I was beginning to get hysterical, and the doctor reached for the nightstand and handed me both items. I sighed with relief. The bandages were way too bulky for the jewellery to fit, so I tucked them both under my pillow and turned on my side so that the lump on my head didn't rub on anything. Then she turned off the light and left, promising to come back the next night.

I must have been really tired, because I slept right through the rest of the night and the whole of the next day, waking only for my rendezvous with Eric. I was still sleepy but nothing was going to stop me keeping that appointment, and I sent my usual love as strongly as I could, but if I'm honest I don't think it was that strong, and as soon as the fifteen minutes were up I was out like a light again.

I finally woke at something after seven, and Dr Ludwig arrived at just gone eight. She undid the bandages to dress my hands and this was the first time I had a look at my injuries. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea! They did not look good. I was so glad that Niall's magic was still working, as from the look of them I should have been in agony. The fingers themselves were red, the skin strangely wrinkled, but the palms seemed to have caught it the worst. They seemed to be one giant weeping blister (well, two, obviously). Dr L asked me to try and wiggle my fingers and after a lot of effort I managed to move them just a tiny bit. She seemed pleased, and said it showed that there was no nerve damage. Then to my relief she covered them up with fresh bandages, although she left the fingers free. I hated the sight of them. I asked her why she bandaged them up, when all the First Aid I ever knew said you left burns open to the air, and she said that the bandages were impregnated with a special healing ointment, which would help, and that blisters were prime sites for the entry of infection, so it was important to keep the area protected. She asked me about the pain, and seemed very thoughtful when I told her I was fine. Again she suggested I take some vampire blood, again I refused and again she called me stubborn. I knew I was stubborn. I was going to stay stubborn. Stubborn was good.

Then she checked my head injury, nodded in satisfaction, and said I could get up if I wanted to. I was quite glad, as a trip to the bathroom was fairly high on my priority list right now. She helped me over to the door, and then stayed within call in case I needed assistance. I managed pretty well, since my fingers were free, and again I blessed Niall for his magic. I could only imagine what it would have been like without it.

Then I got into my robe and went through to the living room and flopped on the couch. Dr Ludwig phoned through an order for some smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels, and sat with me until I had eaten all of them. Then she left, saying she was going to go and have another word with the king about letting me have some time off. I really hoped she would succeed. I was suddenly beginning to realise just how run-down I was. It had kind of snuck up on me gradually, but now that it was pointed out I could see what she meant. I really did need a holiday. I turned on the TV and channel-hopped until I found a mindless sitcom, which was just about my mark, as I felt like I didn't have a mind just at the moment.

Midnight struck and I decided to go to sleep before I turned into a pumpkin. I went through to the bedroom, pulled off the robe, fell into bed, hit the light switch in the headboard and was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The next night Dr Ludwig said I was well enough to get up and get dressed. Her healing bandages were pretty effective, and the blistering was going down. I was real glad to be allowed up. I felt fine – I'd slept so much in the last forty-eight hours that I was quite alert again, and going stir-crazy in my rooms. I took a unilateral decision to go back to work, for a little while at least, expecting major resistance from the doc. Considering she was usually such a grouch, I was surprised at her attitude. She seemed to have softened somewhat towards me, and although she gave me the rough edge of her tongue she eventually grudgingly gave me her permission and even helped me get showered and dressed. It had been quite tricky, particularly having a shower, but she had wrapped my hands and arms in Saran wrap and I'd coped. I'd also needed a bit of help with buttons and such. When I was decent and had done my hair and make-up I made my way along to the Gauguin room.

When I arrived at there, the Were on duty looked surprised, but handed me my clipboard and said, "Good for you, ma'am," as I passed him. I smiled and went on in. The room looked pretty much as usual, but there was a new rug on the floor where I had been standing a few nights ago. I guess there was a real bad scorch mark on the carpet just there, and they hadn't had time to replace it yet. No TrueBlood fountains either, just the bottled stuff. Safety first, I guess. I sat down and opened my mind. Not too busy tonight, which I was glad about. I noticed a couple of the vamps looking at me and nudging one another, and some of the humans looked curiously at my bandaged hands, but nobody commented.

I found that my telepathy was functioning twenty-twenty tonight, which was a relief. I had been really worried by what Dr Ludwig had said about my mental faculties being impaired, but I guess she just meant that as a warning; we weren't there yet. I ran down my list, identifying each of the human visitors and checking them out. Mostly fine, one shifty customer was looking for a contract to help with the re-building efforts in New Orleans after Katrina, but his mind said he was planning on using inferior materials and skimming off the top. I noted this on my clipboard and went round to the ante-room. Again the Weres on the door said, "Good to see you up and about, Mrs Northman," as I passed between them, and then I was through the doors.

As usual Felipe was there talking to his advisers. He looked over in surprise and then a smile of welcome appeared on his face, and he actually stood up and took two steps towards me. This was a big deal among vamps, and the courtiers exchanged startled looks with each other. It indicated his level of respect for me, and I felt kind of good about it. If I could command the respect of the king, my kudos here would be huge, and my life could be a lot easier.

"My dear Mrs Northman," the king began, "How are you feeling this evening?"

I curtsied. "Much better thank you, your majesty. Here's my preliminary report for the evening." He waved it aside and one of his chamberlains took it from me.

"I am glad to hear you are feeling well enough to return to your duties, but you must not overdo it. We were just about to move through to the audience chamber. Are you well enough to accompany us, or would you rather remain here?"

"I'll be fine, sir, as long as I can sit down."

"Of course, of course. I can see you are still a little weak. Allow me to assist you," and here he offered me his arm.

Well, colour me surprised. This was pretty mega! If I put my hand on his arm, it meant he would be escorting me into the throne room ahead of every vampire in the place, in full view of the whole court! Normally my position was somewhere below the vamp who sharpened the pencils, but tonight he was clearly making a statement of some kind. He wanted them all to know that my status was no longer just that of useful employee; I'd moved up to king's favourite. Not sure that was good idea. Respect was one thing, teacher's pet was another. Being Queen Sophie-Ann's favourite had cost my cousin Hadley her life, when other vamps got jealous. I'd much rather stay below the radar. He noticed my hesitation, and said, "Please, come," still holding his arm bent at the elbow. I smiled slightly nervously, and laid my fingers on his sleeve. They still didn't look pretty, but he didn't so much as glance at them. He nodded to a chamberlain, who signalled the Were guards and then we were passing through the great double doors into the throne room.

I had a hard time not laughing out loud at the reaction of the assembled courtiers. The only sound in the room was that of jaws hitting the floor as they took in the spectacle of the king escorting a human female. If they had been humans themselves, there would have been whispers and murmured comments all round, but vamps didn't do that sort of thing, so the king mounted the low steps to his throne in complete silence, but I could feel the eyes. He took his place in front of his throne and gestured to me to stand to his right, but he didn't sit down as usual. Instead he surveyed the room with his dark eyes, and said,

"This evening we welcome back to our presence a true heroine. You have all heard what happened here two nights ago, when human zealots conspired to infect as many of us as possible with the Sino-Aids virus. Their plot was discovered and frustrated by Mrs Sookie Northman," here he turned slightly to me before continuing, "who saved the lives of a great many vampires by doing so. At the same time, her prompt and selfless action in going to the aid of a distinguished visitor who had been doused with flaming spirits resulted in serious injury to herself, and we are delighted that she is sufficiently recovered to be with us tonight. Mrs Northman has proved herself a true friend to our race, and it is my command that all here honour her for her courage and loyalty." I could feel the blush starting somewhere round my knees, spreading up my body and charging into my face, which I'm sure was bright pink with embarrassment.

He continued, "in order to allow Mrs Northman to recover fully from her injuries, we are sending her on an all-expenses-paid vacation, but she will return to be a guest of honour at the Sheriff's Ball in two weeks' time, where you will all have the opportunity to thank her for her heroism." Here he turned to me again, and said, "My dear Mrs Northman, is there any other way in which we can express our gratitude to you?" I smiled. He was a clever son-of-a-bitch, I had to give him that. He knew he was pretty much forced to let me have a break - Dr Ludwig had been quite clear about the consequences if he didn't - so he dressed it up as a reward, which made him look like a gracious and generous monarch. Talk about making a virtue out of necessity! Meanwhile, he was waiting for my answer. I thought fast. Should I ask to be released from my contract? No, he'd definitely refuse, but it would make him look bad in front of his subjects, and he'd never forgive me for that. Ask for something reasonable, Sookie. Quick, they're all looking at you. I cleared my throat and said,

"Sir, that's really kind of you; the vacation sounds wonderful. I'm sure it will help my recovery in time for the Sheriff's Ball. I wonder if you would kindly allow me to invite a few of my friends to that? I know what an exclusive event it is and everyone wants tickets, and I'm sure they'd be really honoured if they could come. Would that be OK?"

"Of course, my dear." The king turned to his chamberlain and said, "Sergei, notify the ticket office that Mrs Northman is to be given six tickets at once, to be allocated to guests of her choice. And now, if you would take your seat, my dear, we will proceed with the business of the evening." He bowed to me and I curtsied again and all the vamps clapped as I made my way to my usual place at the side of the room. The king sat down, the chamberlain announced the first visitor, and then it was business as usual. I flagged up the scuzzball who was planning to take advantage of the devastation in New Orleans, and he was dismissed in double-quick time. No other surprises for the night, and when the king closed the audience I stood up to leave discreetly as usual, and to my surprise the king once again rose to his feet, underlining his edict. I smiled and bobbed a quick curtsey and then left as fast as I could decently manage. Although I'd been sitting down, the evening had taken it out of me and I really needed a rest.

I went back to my room and there already waiting for me in the passage was Guillaume, one of the king's chamberlains, with two folders. The first one had six invitations to the ball, on thick card, with gold edges and just the names left blank. Wow, that was quick work. I thanked him, invited him in and had a look at the other one. It contained the details of my vacation. Oh man! I'd been booked for a week into the Fairmont Mayakoba, a luxury hotel in Riviera Maya, about 40 miles south of Cancun, on the Caribbean coast. I'd be flying out from Las Vegas _on Wednesday morning!_ changing at Fort Worth and then hitting Cancun six hours later. The hotel was only 45 minutes from the airport and it looked fantastic! I had been booked into a luxury _casita_ or lodge and there were spas and beaches and lagoons with little boats and…I hadn't been so excited in…well, I don't know that I'd _ever_ been this excited! I'd never had a real vacation before, and this looked like being a real good way to start!

Packing! I had to start packing! Suddenly I didn't feel so tired any more. My mind was in a whirl. How many bikinis did I have? Did I have enough suntan lotion? Thank goodness I had a new passport. Oh, and what about sunglasses? I was so happy I startled the hell out of the chamberlain, who had been watching my reaction (I guess he was going to have to report back to king), by hugging him. He staggered back slightly, and then I realised what I'd done. Whoops! Don't touch, Sookie!

"Oh, I am so sorry, Guillaume! I don't know what came over me! I'm just so excited! I've never had a vacation like this before. It's really kind of the king. Please tell him how happy I am." He smiled nervously and looked away. Vamps often find human emotions a bit embarrassing.

"Your car will be brought round on Wednesday morning at nine forty-five," he said, "Your bodyguard will come for your luggage at nine thirty-five precisely. Please have it ready for him."

"My bodyguard?" I stopped dancing round the room and looked at him. Oh no, were we back to all that crap again? I thought we'd gotten over this.

"This is a condition of your vacation; that you should be accompanied at all times by one of his majesty's Weres. As well as protecting you, he will serve as a courier, to relieve you of the stresses of travel. The king is very anxious that you should be well cared for on your trip, and he _insists_ that you accept the honour of a royal bodyguard." Guillaume was being quite clear on this point; no bodyguard, no vacation. Damn. That kind of took the shine off things a bit. It would also prevent any of my friends from joining me. I had immediately thought of inviting one or two of them down, but it looked like that was a no-no. Everything I did was going to be reported straight back to the king.

But there was no way I could be completely down. There was no reason why I had to let this spoil my vacation; So I had to have some stupid Were with me. He would be a bodyguard, not a nanny, and he couldn't stop me doing whatever I liked. Anyway, it would sure be easier having someone to carry my bags and stuff. I thanked Guillaume again, and he left, in a hurry. I think he was worried I was going to hug him again.

Then I began throwing my entire wardrobe on the bed in order to decide what to take. As I folded and sorted my things I speculated on which Were would be assigned to me. I knew most of the bodyguards, and hoped it would be one of the more friendly ones.

As I worked, there was a knock on my door and when I opened it, Lord Eskham was standing there, smiling down at me. He bowed and said, "Good evening, Mrs Northman."

"Oh! Lord…uh, I mean, Edward! It's good to see you. How are you? Please come in, won't you." I stepped back to allow him to enter and he followed me into my living room, glancing around him as he did so. He didn't sit down until I had seated myself, and invited him to do so, when he took the chair opposite me. This guy sure knew how to make me feel like a lady. I summoned all my Southern belle manners and offered to send for a TrueBlood for him.

He declined politely and asked after my health. He seemed to be pretty ok himself. His hair was shorter than it had been, and there were some faint pink marks on his face, but otherwise you'd not have known he'd been on fire just a couple of nights ago. Then he thanked me for helping him. He wasn't over the top, but he sounded very sincere, and I assured him I'd been happy to do what I could. He looked at my bandaged hands, and said,

"My dear Mrs Northman, I am devastated that your courage should have cost you so dearly. May I offer you my blood for your healing, or has some other lucky vampire forestalled me?"

I smiled. "That's very kind of you, Edward, and please call me Sookie, but I only feed from my husband, and he's abroad at the moment." I hated using that word to describe what Eric and I shared, but I knew it was a term he'd understand.

"Really? I trust he will return soon. I cannot imagine anything that would keep me away for a second longer than necessary, if I had such a lovely wife waiting for me."

I know he was simply paying me a compliment, but he had no idea how painful his words were. I changed the subject.

"How long are you in Nevada for, Edward?"

"I am simply passing through. I am touring the Americas. I have already been through all of South America, and I am slowly making my way across your great land. Had it not been for the incident the other night, I would already have been on my way, but I delayed my departure until I was sufficiently recovered to come and thank you in person for what you did."

"So, you won't be around for the Sheriff's Ball, then? It's supposed to be real special, with everyone in costume."

"Really? What will your costume be?"

"I haven't decided yet. I thought I might go for something from ancient Rome or Greece. The clothes were really elegant from then, and there's lots of pictures and statues around here to get ideas from."

"That sounds very lovely, but I'm afraid I am not invited. I should very much like to see you as Diana the Huntress, for example, but I understand it is a very exclusive guest list."

"I suppose so; it's meant to be a kind of annual thank you to the Area Sheriffs, so they'll all be there, but there's lots of other people as well. In fact…" I hesitated, and then decided. "I have some invitations if you would like one. The king gave me half a dozen as a reward for helping out the other night."

"Really? Have you not already allocated them to your friends?" (yeah, like I had that many friends!)

"No, I only got them this evening, so if you want one, you can have one. Really, I'd be very happy to see you there."

"That is extremely generous of you Mrs North…Sookie. I should be honoured to accept your invitation."

I smiled. "That's great. I won't know most of the guests because they'll be from out of town, so it'll be nice to have a friend to talk with."

"And dance with too, I hope. In fact, may I have the honour of engaging you for the first waltz of the evening?"

"You may." I smiled, feeling just like Scarlett O'Hara.

He bowed his thanks, and then left with his invitation card, kissing my hand again (very gently) and promising to return on the night of the ball. Oh my, he was just _so_ gallant! That was one thing I loved about vamps; so many of them were from an age when courtesy and good manners were important, and they still knew how to turn it on.

I sighed and shook myself. I'd better decide who else was going to get an invite. Well, Bill and Pam, obviously; Mr C, Amelia, and who for the last one? I couldn't make up my mind, so I decided to keep it in reserve, in case I thought of someone who might like it. I wrote them out, addressed the thick cream-coloured envelopes and took them up to the mailroom. Then I stopped off at the popsicle machine for a mango delight before heading back downstairs. The Were guards didn't speak, but most of them grinned as they saw me. They thought it was real funny that someone of my age was wandering around Vamp Central with a popsicle, but I just loved them! I'd never had enough of them when I was a kid, and now I had one pretty much every day. Sometimes two. I found I was yawning by the time I got back to my suite, so I cleared all the clothes off my bed and used it for what it was meant for.

By the time Wednesday morning came I must have packed and unpacked three or four times, changing my mind about what I wanted to take. Hey, I was new at this, okay? I'd stocked up on suntan lotion and mystery novels (I tended to stay away from romances these days). My hands were healing well and I'd managed to persuade the doc to let me wear a pair of long cotton gloves instead of the bandages. I had packed several pairs in different colours. Gloves on the beach were going to look a bit weird, but nowhere near as conspicuous as yards of crepe. It also meant I could wear my watch and my bracelet again.

I had texted Bill to let him know where I was off to, and he told me that Paul was through the second layer of security. One to go, he reckoned, and then they'd get the papers off to Cataliades for study. He hoped to have some news for me by the time I came back. I sure hoped there was something we could use in there, after all the work we'd (they'd) put in. I made him promise to text me the minute he knew anything.

All my guests had accepted by return, and I had handed all five names in at the office which was dealing with the invitations. Edward had been quite right; this was one of the biggest vampire functions of the year, and security was real tight. No-one was getting in without an invite. I suddenly realised I'd meant to ask Edward where he knew Bill from, but I'd forgotten. I kicked myself, and then remembered I could ask Bill. I grabbed my phone and texted him again. The answer soon came back that he had met him in Peru when he'd been researching for his database. Fair enough, that tied in with Edward's story of touring South America. I very much wanted to trust him. He seemed so nice.

I checked my watch (again!) and it was gone 9.30. I was excited as a little kid. I was about to take my first foreign vacation! A knock on my door. Yes! The bodyguard for the luggage! I opened the door and my heart sank. It was Matt. Mr Sullen himself. Jeez Louise, I couldn't have picked a worse companion for a vacation if I'd tried. I'd almost rather have gone with Victor ( not really). I hid my disappointment and pointed out my suitcases to him, and he silently carried them to the elevator. I had a last check round to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, locked the door and followed him.

Outside my new silver-blue BMW was waiting on the drive. Matt loaded my bags and his own into the trunk and would have taken the driver's seat, but I beat him to it. This was _my _car! He looked like he was about to protest, but I just eyeballed him. I wasn't having any of his macho alpha-male BS and eventually he settled silently into the passenger side and then we were off down the drive. The new car felt great, but was going to take a little getting used to. I hadn't driven it before; it had just been delivered and then sat in the garage at the compound getting dusty. I took it real slow to start with, being careful of my hands. They were very stiff and holding the steering-wheel felt a tad awkward. The guards at the gate waved us on through and then we were out on the main highway.

I looked around a lot on the drive to the airport as I'd never really seen our location properly. This was my first daylight trip outside the compound in coming up for three months – previous expeditions had been in the king's retinue, and so had been overnight. The desert was a sort of orangey colour and pretty flat right to the horizon, when it hit a range of mountains. The highway was wide and straight as an arrow, and we kept up a good speed. I hated to admit it, but the new car was a big improvement over my old one, which Eric had rightly described as crappy. It certainly had better air-con (and better engine, better tires, better body work, better brakes…). It didn't seem to take long at all to reach the airport, Matt directing me.

When we got there, he took over. I had to admit he was pretty efficient. He arranged for the car to be parked, checked us in, saw to the baggage, got our passports stamped and then we were in the VIP lounge waiting for our first-class flight to be called. I ordered a complimentary glass of champagne. This was certainly the life. It reminded me of Eric's efficiency – he had always made sure that he got exactly what he wanted when he travelled anywhere, but there again it would take a lot of nerve to refuse the demands of a six-foot-four Viking vampire with muscles like a lumberjack, who had a habit of extending his fangs when he was even slightly displeased.

As we waited, I tried hard to lure Matt into a conversation, but he wasn't having it. A peek in his mind showed no resentment – not like last time – but he was very wary. There was a strong flavour of determination in his head, but I couldn't make out what he was feeling determined about. Probably just concerned about keeping me out of trouble. I wished him luck with that. Trouble just seemed to follow me around, but I was sure hoping for a few days of just lying on a beach, with a big umbrella, a big hat, a big cool drink and a good book. I had another glass of champagne, because I was feeling a bit tense. Having lived at Felipe's so long, I'd gotten used to a lot of mental silence, and I'd forgotten about the noise of other peoples' minds. The airport had been brutal; the crowds had deafened me until I got my shields up and working, and it had left me feeling pretty rocky until I adjusted. Just then our flight was called and we stood up and moved to the flight gate. Here we go!

It had been a long trip – eight hours, give or take, with the change at Fort Worth and the taxi-ride at this end, but boy oh boy, was it worth it! I had never seen anything so gorgeous, even on the TV. Felipe had certainly pulled out all the stops. As we stood in the reception area checking-in I had a hard time not just staring slack-jawed at my surroundings. I'd been living in a royal residence for the last three months, but this place just took my breath away. My eyes were rolling around in my head like marbles in a soup-plate trying to take it all in as Matt finished filling in the registration form for the smiling concierge. He wasn't happy about the lodge we'd been allocated, and was insisting on one with more privacy. He got it, too. Then it was into a little electric buggy driven by a white-uniformed staff member and off through the lagoons to our casita.

It was some way from the main hotel, and Matt was starting to look a tad warm, as he was still in his uniform. I sure hoped I could persuade him to loosen up some. This was meant to be a vacation for gosh sakes – there was no reason why he shouldn't enjoy it too.

When we got there I could not believe it. Our casita was on two levels, nestled among palm trees looking out over the Caribbean and completely hidden from any other building. I was real glad Matt had insisted. I would have privacy, and I just loved it! I left Matt to tip the driver and see to the bags, and then I was up the stairs, in through the door and exploring. Oh man, this place had everything! There was a private balcony with sun-loungers; king-size beds, a patio, and OMG there was a private pool on the roof! ! ! This was beyond fantastic! I danced around the living room and even Matt had to smile at my excitement as he came in with my bags.

"Which bedroom do you want, ma'am?"

I pointed. "I'll have that one, please. And Matt?" He paused and looked back over his shoulder at me.

"_Please _can we drop the 'ma'am' stuff? We're not at work now. I want to relax and I can't do that with you 'ma'am'-ing me all over the place. My name's Sookie. Please? Just for this week? " I smiled at him and, reluctantly, he smiled back. "OK. Sookie." He looked so much nicer when he smiled. "Thanks Matt. Now, I'm going to get into a bikini and then onto that sun lounger!"

"What about your hands?"

"I'll keep the gloves on. Dr Ludwig said they'd be very sensitive to sunlight, but that I should try to do some sea-bathing because salt water's good for them. I'll try that tomorrow. Meanwhile, why don't you get outta that uniform and into something a bit lighter? You're gonna broil."

"Maybe later. I'm going to see about ordering some food first." Why was I not surprised? Then again, why not?

"Good thinking, is there a menu somewhere?"

He glanced around and then picked up a fat leather folder next to the phone. It had all the information about the resort in it, including a huge menu. I picked lobster tails with sweet corn and he went for barbecued ribs with everything. And I _do_ mean everything. To drink he ordered something called a Chapmans, which he said was non-alcoholic and very refreshing, so I said I'd have one too. Then I went into my room, unpacked quickly, found my tiniest micro-bikini and went to catch some rays. It wasn't far off sunset, but there was plenty of heat still in the sun and I was going to make the most of every second.

The food, when it came, was delicious, and I liked the Chapman's. It had all sorts of bits of fruit floating in it and was packed with ice and there was a cute little paper umbrella too. The sky darkened as we ate, and the patio lights came on automatically. I finished my meal (way before Mr Human Garbage Disposal had finished his) and went up to the roof (the pool had underwater lights too!) and stood looking out over the grounds. It was so warm I didn't even need a wrap. The winding paths were all picked out in yellow light and there were little coloured lamps dotted among the trees and the greenery. There was a constant sort of hum of insects and frogs and such, and the breeze was warm and smelled of flowers. I closed my eyes and felt myself relax, just enjoying the peace and the freedom, and then I heard a knock at the door. Oh, shoot. Who was that? Matt went to answer it, and there was a murmur of voices, then footsteps coming along the passage. One set at least had high-heels on, from the clicking on the tiles. Reluctantly I turned and went back down into the living room just as Matt came through the door, and I stood still in total shock. He was followed by Mr Cataliades and behind him, looking as immaculate as ever in a set of pale green linens with a primrose-yellow shell, was Pam.

I went straight into panic mode.

"Oh my God! Pam! What are you doing here? What's happened? Is Eric alright? Tell me, is he alright ? ! ? Why are you here?" My words tumbled over each other as I looked from one to the other of our visitors. Pam smiled slightly.

"Nice to see you too, Sookie. I'm fine, thanks for asking." Her words and tone were an exact echo of what I had said to her back in Fangtasia when she had asked about Eric. I now felt pretty much the same level of frustration as she must have felt on that occasion when I was so snippy with her, but I was too shaken to come back at her with a smart remark. I was on the brink of tears, but fortunately, Mr C stepped in.

"Eric is fine, Mrs Northman. It is to discuss him that we are here." Oh, thank God. I heaved a sigh of relief and sat down as suddenly and jerkily as though someone had just cut my strings. As long as Eric was okay; that was all that mattered. A thought struck me and I glanced at Matt. He had changed into light cotton chinos and a loose short-sleeved shirt, and was leaning against the wall of the living-room. He didn't seem fazed by the arrival of these unexpected visitors, but this was probably stuff he shouldn't be hearing.

The lawyer followed my gaze and smiled. "Do not be concerned, my dear. Matt is fully aware of your situation, and is no threat to your or Eric's wellbeing. In fact, he is about to be extremely helpful in that respect. Isn't that right, Matt?" He looked over at the Were, who nodded his head silently. Mr C continued.

"May we sit down? We have no time to waste if we are to accomplish our purpose. You will need to be leaving soon."

I was completely lost by now. "Leaving? Why? What's happening?" My voice sounded plaintive in my ears. "Look you guys, you show up out of nowhere, like a…like a couple of genies out of a lamp, frighten the hell out of me and make cryptic remarks about wasting time and accomplishing purposes; I think I'm entitled to an explanation. _What the hell is going on?"_

Pam spoke again. She had seated herself on the couch and looked cool and elegant; like she was modelling for pictures for the hotel website.

"I have been very concerned for Eric. I have been bonded with him for so much longer than you that I can pick up a very faint sense of what he is feeling, even at this distance, and it is not good. He is suffering without you and I do not like this. As his child, it is my duty to serve him, and when Bill told me where you were going, I realised we had a small opportunity to give the master what he needs. His blood-bond with you must be renewed. I contacted Cataliades and between us we have made a plan."

"How can we renew our blood-bond? Can Eric come here to Mexico? I know he's only banned from the USA." Hope surged wildly inside me, only to be dashed by Pam's next words.

"No, he cannot. This hotel is owned by the king; that is why you were booked in here, and Eric cannot risk being seen by one of de Castro's employees. Even though we are not in America, he is still forbidden to have any contact with his former associates, and it would mean his, and our, final death. This is not acceptable."

"So what are you suggesting?" I was still confused, but listening hard. In reply, Pam reached into her purse and handed me a folder containing an airline ticket and boarding pass.

"We have booked you on a return flight to Sweden, leaving later tonight, so that you may spend some time with him there. It will not be for long," her voice held a warning tone, as I sat upright eagerly. "The Were believes that he can conceal your absence for three or four days, but no longer. People will become suspicious. Also, you will need to return here with sufficient time to acquire the skin colouration expected of someone who has spent many days in the sunlight, and you must be seen around the hotel. You must also take many photographs as evidence of your presence.

"_Matt_ will conceal…? But why? I mean, he works for Felipe too. Why would he be willing to risk himself like this? Why would you trust him? Why would he help me?"

Matt spoke for the first time. "Because you helped me." He straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall and came over to where we were sitting. "You saved my family, and I owe you for that."

"Your family?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

He reached in his pocket and brought out his wallet. He flipped it open and showed me the photograph inside. He was sitting on a blanket at the beach, laughing like I'd never seen him do, holding a dark-haired boy of about nine. Next to him, clinging to his arm, was a smiling woman who I recognised instantly.

"Adelaide!" I looked at him. "You're…"

He nodded, putting the picture away. "Matthew Cummings, but she's the only one who can get away with using my full name. I hate it. Always have."

"So that's why you're willing to help me."

"Yup. Without you, she'd have been in prison right now, thanks to that bitch Gloria Nicholls. And if you hadn't helped to find her, I'd be working my balls off trying to repay the money she stole. So, I reckon I owe you this."

I was speechless. So that was why Adelaide had been so cool about my gift! She knew so much about the supe world that nothing would surprise her. I remembered what she'd said when I told her I was married to a vamp. If I was right, she had tried to tell me then that she had a mixed-species marriage herself, but I'd interrupted her before she could say it. Pam continued.

"The woman Adelaide had told her husband that you were trying to exonerate Eric, and she mentioned the name of your lawyer, so the Were contacted him to see if there was any way in which he could help you. He had seen and admired your loyalty to your husband. When Cataliades and I formulated our plan we asked him to volunteer as your bodyguard, and he agreed." She sat upright. "So, Sookie? Do you wish to do this? It will mean many hours flying and not much time with Eric, but it will at least be something, and you can renew your blood-bond."

"Do I _wish_ to…what do you think? Of course I wish to do this! When's my flight? I'd better get packing…" A thought struck me. "Sweden? That's freezing cold isn't it? I've only got tropical gear with me!"

Pam said, "I have purchased everything you will need, and it is waiting for you in two lockers at the airport. Here are the keys. All you will need to take now is an empty suitcase to transfer the new clothes to."

"What about all my personal stuff?"

"You must leave as much as possible here, so that the maid service will not grow suspicious. Each morning the Were will arrange your bedroom to make it look as though you have occupied it, but if your cosmetics and brushes and so forth are missing, it will be too obvious."

Mr C added, "Your flight leaves at 11.20 tonight, and we will drive you there as soon as you are ready. Matt will remain here to give the impression that the casita is occupied.

Matt nodded. "That's why I changed our lodge. I wanted us to be as isolated as possible."

I was on my feet. "Then let's go. How do I find Eric once I get to Sweden?"

This time, Mr C reached for his briefcase. He rooted in it for a minute and brought out a small object about the size of a camera.

"What's that?" I had never seen one before.

"This is a SatNav. I have been in communication with one of Eric's agents in the area where he now lives, and he has supplied us with the co-ordinates for Eric's home which have been programmed into this. I will show you how to use it on the way to the airport, and it will guide you to Eric's residence, but be warned, Sookie; look after this carefully. If you lose it there will be no possible way of finding Eric. He has no official address, he does not exist on any government database and his location is secret. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand. So, what should I take from here? How long is the flight? Can I take a couple of books? Do I need any travel documents or anything for Sweden? What sort of money do they use over there?" I was eager to be gone, but I still had so many questions. Pam said, "Sookie, there will be time for all this in the car. Go and change your clothes and fetch what you will need. You may take only what will fit into a small beach bag. We do not wish anyone in the hotel to see you carrying anything inappropriate. We are going to go back to our car, which is out on the highway. The Were will bring you to join us as soon as you are ready. Now, what is the expression? 'Less yacking, more packing!' We will see you shortly." She was right. I was real excited by now. I wanted to be on my way. I was going to see Eric again. _I was going to see Eric! _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Many hours later I crawled off the plane in Göteborg. It had been a hellishly long flight, but my journey was nearing its end now, and when everybody on board the plane applauded after we landed, I joined in with real enthusiasm, even though I thought it was weird. Maybe it's a European thing. I worked my way through customs and took a taxi to a hotel for the rest of the night. I'd been worried about jetlag, but because my body-clock is screwed up big-time anyway, I just decided to sleep when I needed it, and that seemed to be right now. I asked for an early wake-up call and was out like a light until a sadistically cheerful voice phoned me at the crack of dawn. I showered and dressed, and then had a quick breakfast before ordering a hire car and heading north. It was something under a hundred miles and once I left the main E6 the roads were quite tricky. I would have missed the tiny turn-off through the forest, had it not been for the SatNav. It was difficult to operate the touchscreen with gloves on, so I had tried taking them off, but my hands really looked horrible, and when I held the steering wheel they were right in my line of vision so I put the gloves back on and used the stylus-thingy instead. I drove up the dark, narrow track until I ran out of road, then parked and locked the car carefully, and switched the SatNav over to pedestrian mode. Another hour of foot-slogging, and at last I came out of the trees and onto a small headland. I felt a fresh salt breeze, and I could hear the North Sea far below.

There was a small log cabin perched within a few yards of the edge of the cliff. It had a sturdy, weather-beaten look about it, as though it had sat there for a great many years, surviving the storms and the spray that the winter seas threw high in the air to beat against its grey walls. There was another tiny hut at some distance, set back a bit among the trees, which had some sort creeper growing all over it. I went over to have a look, but the creeper had grown all across the door. No-one had been in here for a good long time.

I walked all round the main building. The shutters were all closed, and unlike the rest of it, they looked very new. Also, they were clearly tight-fitting. Unusually, they were on the inside of the glass, and the catches were not accessible from the outside. The whole place looked dead. There was a small verandah, looking out over the sea, with a large rocking-chair and a small table. Glass doors led inside from the verandah, but they were closely shuttered too. There was a large tank on the roof, which I guess was to catch rain water. It really didn't look as though mains water was laid on.

A very faint track led from the verandah across the short, rabbit-nibbled turf, to the very brink of the cliff. It wasn't very well defined, as though it was fairly recent. I followed it carefully and came to the top of some narrow steps cut out of the rock face leading down to the tiny pebbly beach. There was nothing else to be seen; Just the crag, looking out over the bay to a tiny wooded islet offshore and a small rowing-boat tied to an old wooden jetty below. The sea sucked hungrily at the stones, rocking the boat, and the water had a chilly look to it in spite of the heat of the day.

I went back to the cabin and looked at the rocking-chair. There was something about the way it was angled that didn't look quite natural. A thought occurred to me, and I got my SatNav out and switched it on. It found a GPS signal, and then I inputted a new destination (I had spent some time on the flight playing with it. It was an amazing piece of kit) and I lined it up carefully with the chair. It took a few seconds to sort itself out, and then the little arrow on the screen pointed dead ahead. That was interesting. Although it was a few thousand miles away, anyone sitting in that chair would be facing directly towards America in general and Las Vegas in particular.

I went back to the rock steps and carefully followed them down and after a few minutes I was at sea-level. I scrambled over the wet and slippery rocks, and then crunched across the shingle to the little boat, and inspected it. It was in good repair; it looked freshly painted, the rope it was tied by was pretty new and there was a pair of newly-varnished oars resting on the boards. So someone was using it. Where would they go around here? There were no houses visible anywhere, and the far shore of the bay was a very long way off. I thought for a couple of minutes, then I changed my gloves for a fresh pair from my rucksack, climbed down gingerly into the boat, untied it and began cautiously to row out to the little islet, where another jetty was visible. It hurt my hands quite badly, even through the gloves, but it only took a few minutes before the keel (prow, nose?) was bumping against the wood and I hopped out, holding very tightly to the rope. I tied it as securely as I could (I didn't want to risk it drifting away - that water looked way too cold for swimming) and then looked around me. There was no grass that I could see, it was all just rocks and sand and trees, but there were footsteps leading inland.

I made my way round the whole island, sticking to the rocks so that I didn't leave any tell-tale footprints; it was no more than fifty yards end to end - just a rock sticking up out of the water with a few pine-trees. Then I moved inland cautiously and a few yards in I came across a tiny clearing. There was a small wooden shelter in the centre of it - three sides and a roof. The space in front of it was sandy, so I didn't step onto it but I moved carefully over the rocks until I could see into the shelter. There was a low table, set well back to protect it from the weather. On it was a framed photograph, with an unlit candle in front of it, and a small glass ball on a stand lying in front of that. I couldn't see what was in the photograph as the sun was very bright and the roof cast a very deep shadow. The sandy area had a great many footprints on it, and although I was definitely no expert, it looked as though only one person came here. I stood looking for a few minutes, and then turned and found my way back to the boat and rowed back to the mainland.

I tied up the boat as I had left it, and climbed back up the path, then I went to the cabin, checking that I hadn't left any sign of my presence, before hiking back to the car. I didn't approach the cabin closely; again, I didn't want to leave my scent. I hoped that the intervening nine hours of sun and wind would have blown any trace of me away from the island and the boat.

Back in Uddavalle I found a McDonalds and had lunch (it came with something called béarnaise sauce, which was really nice) and then mooched around the town for an hour. I bought some warmer clothes (Pam hadn't been able to fit a decent coat into the small lockers in Cancun) and a thick blanket and a small pencil-beam torch, trying out just one or two phrases in Swedish. People seemed to appreciate my trying, and mostly smiled, but everyone spoke great English. Then I went to the cinema. It was Toy Story 3 dubbed into Swedish, but I'd seen it before, so I knew the plot. It was quite fun, trying to identify a few little Swedish words and phrases that I had learned off the linguaphone course, but I was really just killing time.

It was a fair guess that there wouldn't be any human food in the little cabin, so I found a little restaurant for a big meal to tide me over. I decided to go Swedish, so I asked the man at the counter and he chose for me. I had schnapps cheese, pickled cucumber and reindeer salami on a piece of crisp bread, with a main dish of meatballs and potato in cream sauce with lingonberry jam. It was pretty good, and I decided I could probably get used to Swedish food. Then I went to the restroom and brushed my teeth thoroughly. I didn't know if he would appreciate the taste of reindeer (although he'd probably be ok with the lingonberry!). I also used the facilities. I kind of hoped that the little hut back at the cabin was what I thought it was, but there were no guarantees. Hey, that was a thought. He wasn't expecting human visitors. I found a drugstore and bought one or two essentials.

At last, it was time to head back. I had checked and it would be a nearly full moon tonight. That would help. As I left the car at the start of the footpath again, I was starting to get excited. Sunset would be in about an hour and a half and it was only an hour's walk to the cabin. I had plenty of time.

At least, that's what I thought. Half an hour into my hike, the SatNav beeped and died. Two hours on pedestrian mode this afternoon had drained the batteries and the twenty minutes on the car charger hadn't been enough. "Oh, hell," I moaned, ripping off my gloves and jabbing at the lifeless lump of metal as if that would get it working again. "Don't do this to me! Not now! ! Please God! " The blank screen mocked me silently. I looked around me. It would be dark in an hour, and then I would really be in trouble. I had to keep moving. There was only one way to go at the moment and that was forward, so I put my gloves back on, shoved the now useless SatNav in my rucksack and began to move faster, determined to cover as much ground as possible before the light failed. The path was fairly well-marked for most of the way, and I made good progress for a while, but then I came to a three-way junction in the path, and I couldn't for the life of me remember which way I'd gone this morning. That's the trouble with technology; you come to rely on it and when it goes wrong you're screwed.

I turned right, as that seemed to lead slightly uphill, but after ten minutes I began to have my doubts. There were whippy branches across the path, slashing at my face, and I didn't remember that from earlier. I turned round and made my way back to the junction, and tried the path straight ahead. That way was clear but then it came out of the trees and into a small meadow, so I sighed and turned back _again._ Third time lucky. I was hurrying now. It was getting gloomy under the trees, and it was harder to see my way. I wondered if Sweden had many wild animals in their forests. Wolves? Bears? Wildcats? I tripped over a root occasionally, but I knew I had to be going right this time. It felt as though I had been walking for ever, when my watch beeped. Ah oh. Sunset in five minutes. I hurried forward, and then sun went down and it was real dark, real sudden.

I whimpered slightly and got out my little torch. It was better than nothing. I began to feel my way forward, hoping, knowing that somewhere ahead of me he would be rising, and I began to pray real hard. God, don't let me get lost, don't let me miss him. I stumbled and fell, coming down quite hard on my hands, and although I was tempted to lie there for a minute and just cry I knew I had to keep going. C'mon Sookie. You can do this. You've done a lot tougher things than this. You're nearly there. Nearly there. I got to my feet and picked up my torch and made myself walk on.

Suddenly I heard a sound of something metallic, and yellow light suddenly bloomed not too far ahead and off to the side. I sighed with relief. It was the cabin and I was only about two hundred yards short. I had been right – those shutters were completely lightproof and there had not been a glimmer until they were opened, which must have been the sound I heard. The fact that I was this close and hadn't even registered his rising showed how completely exhausted our bond was. Well, I hoped to do something about that before the night was over.

I was hurrying through the last of the trees when I heard the sound of a door opening and he came into sight, walking towards the headland. He passed through the lightspill from the uncurtained windows and I saw that he was buck naked. For a second I had a fabulous view of his Olympic-class butt, and my libido started doing the cha-cha, and then he just walked straight over the cliff-edge. I nearly screamed, but then I remembered he could do this. He didn't need the steps. He sank out of sight and I ran forward before suddenly remembering that I was running straight towards a cliff-edge in the dark. I pulled up sharply and crept forward the last few yards. By the time I reached the edge and peeked over, he was already waist-deep in the freezing water and as I watched he struck out strongly for the little island. I wondered why he didn't fly over, but perhaps he just wanted a swim.

Although it was fully night I could see him as a white shape in the water; like all vampires he glowed slightly in the dark, at least to me. Soon he reached the island and hauled himself out onto the jetty, a pale blur in the gloom. He passed among the trees and was lost to sight.

Ah. Now what? What if he was going to spend a long time there? I had come all this way to see him and I only had three days; I couldn't waste any more time. If I had to follow him out there in the dark, so be it. Using my torch I crept carefully down the steps I had scoped earlier in the day, and made my way to the boat and untied it. I thanked my lucky stars I had done all this once already. I rowed hard in spite of the stiffness in my hands, reached the island jetty, tied up the boat and crept inland, again sticking to the rocks. I couldn't use the torch now, but the moon was up, and I could see candlelight just ahead of me. A stiffish breeze had got up and I made sure I approached the clearing downwind (thank you, Girl Scouts of the USA!). I was grateful, because the sound of the pine-trees creaking and rustling and the lapping of the waves hid the small noises I made.

I crept up to the edge of the tiny clearing and peered cautiously over the top of a rock.

The little shelter was now lit by a golden glow from the candle. The photograph and the globe were clearly visible, as was the figure kneeling in front of them with his broad back to me. His paper-white skin was almost luminous in the candlelight. I could see little runlets of sea-water dripping off of him, sparkling as they fell and then being lost in the sand. He knelt motionless for a time, his arms at his sides, totally focussed on the picture, and then he leaned forward and picked it up. His fingers slowly and gently traced the contours of the face and he whispered three words.

"Min lilla fru."

Then he raised the picture to his lips and kissed it before setting it back in its place, carefully centring it behind the candle. He knelt back on his heels for a few moments, gazing, and then abruptly his head fell forward and he buried his face in his hands. A harsh sound was torn from him and his shoulders shook.

I silently backed away until I was out of sight of the clearing, and then turned and hurried silently back to the boat. I should not have seen that. No-one should have seen that. I quickly rowed back to shore, my mind full of the image of that pale figure kneeling in the candlelight. Halfway there I heard a voice from the island behind me; It was calling a name, but it was almost like a wolf's cry; harsh, lonely, full of sorrow and loss. It echoed across the water and then was gone. I rowed on. It was easy to find my way back, even in the dark, because he had left the cabin lights on and it shone like a beacon. Obviously, he had little or no fear of being burglarised. I tied up the boat, switched on my torch and made my way back up the cliff path to the cabin. I didn't know when he was coming back, but it would have to be before dawn. I know I'd gone out there to meet him, but I couldn't bring myself to intrude on that moment. That was private.

I tried to decide what to do next. I didn't want to go inside, not without him, so I looked through the windows. It was pretty much as I expected. Very simple, with wood floors. I could see a microwave and a fridge; there were bright rugs on the floor and jewel-coloured cushions and upholstery on the sturdy furniture. The walls were hung with what would probably be pretty valuable antiques if they were ever for sale: helmets, swords, shields, drinking-horns, tapestries. I couldn't see into the bedroom – no windows, and the only other door I guessed led into the bathroom. There were books and CDs on the table, a desk with a computer against one wall and an expensive-looking hi-fi, but that was about it. I pictured him of an evening, sitting in the rocking-chair, facing west, a bottle of TrueBlood in his hand, with music pouring out of the open windows. I decided what I wanted to do.

I dug my blanket out of my rucksack – even though it had been a warm day, the clear skies meant the temperature dropped like a stone at night – then I curled up in the rocking-chair and settled down to wait.

The moon rose higher and silvered the landscape, paling the golden wash of light from the windows behind me and picking out every grass blade and leaf in sharp detail. My chair was in the shadow, which I was glad about, as I didn't want to be silhouetted against the windows. I kept my eyes on the edge of the cliff, but even so he was there almost before I was aware of it, rising silently until he could step onto the turf.

As I watched him approach, his bare feet making almost no sound on the grass, he glowed silver. His hair was wet from his swim. It had grown quite a lot in the last three months, curling below his ears and into the nape of his neck, silvery-gold in the moonlight. He was just so beautiful. Now he was close enough for me to see the water beading on his pale skin, sparkling droplets of it caught in the fine curls of slightly darker gold on his chest. Then he suddenly stopped and stiffened, his nostrils flaring; he was aware of something.

Before he had a chance to react, I stood up and stepped forward. For a long, long moment we looked at each other in the moonlight. I smiled. Then he smiled slowly, the moonlight shining on his new fangs.

"Min lilla fru," he said.

"Hello, Eric," I said, and ran to his outstretched arms.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

**Well, folks, I asked as many of you as I could whether you wanted to draw a veil of privacy over Eric and Sookie's reunion or whether you wanted the whole thing in glorious lemon-flavoured Technicolor. Thank you to all those who were kind enough to take the time to respond, (some of you at considerable length, which was really helpful) and the verdict is now in.**

**The overwhelming feeling is that you wanted to see the Viking and the telepath together in their happiness, and so that is what I have tried to do. Please forgive me if this is not your own personal view of how it would go – I have tried to capture the moment as best I could.**

**If you would rather not violate their privacy, please feel free to skip this chapter. It only covers their first night, and there will be no major plot points, so you won't miss anything necessary for your understanding of the rest of the story.**

**Big hugs again to Mia for her help with the Swedish.**

**Thank you for your patience. As you have probably gathered by now, I'm a real approval junkie, and need your reviews to encourage me to write more. Please take the time to send me a line. Thank you.**

**Now read on… **

**EPOV – LEMON ALERT! LEMON ALERT! **

As I swam back from the island, I ducked my head repeatedly under the freezing waves in the hope that the icy chill would help me to clear my thoughts of Sookie. For the last two months I had disciplined myself rigorously to think of her only at set times; at my rising and my sleeping; when my watch alarm sounded indicating sunset in Las Vegas; and most of all during that bittersweet hour on my island, when I knelt in front of her picture each night, remembering our time together, and allowing my imagination to run riot, painting impossible pictures of our re-union. I had imagined so many different scenarios and what she would say, how she would look; a clandestine encounter in the Nevada desert; a stolen meeting during some European tour of Felipe's; I had even, like the love-sick fool I was, pictured myself flying in to save her from some unspecified danger, and then carrying her off to a secret love-nest where we would be together for ever. I allowed myself one hour in each twenty-four on the island, with my beloved, during which time I gave my emotions free rein, crying her name into the void, but at the end of the hour, I mastered myself, put all thoughts of her aside, returned to my cabin and continued with my plans to destroy Victor Madden.

I knew Sookie was attempting to prove my innocence from inside Felipe's headquarters, but it was not in my nature simply to sit back and do nothing. I did not want justice – I wanted vengeance. So far I had developed two lines of approach which I was currently working on, and I was seriously considering a third, but I was hampered in all three by my absence from the scene. I thanked the gods for modern technology, which allowed long-range communication, but it was still tediously slow as I had to use agents and cover companies at every stage. My hand could not appear anywhere in these schemes, or my love would die.

I was very pleased to learn that Madden was slowly sinking in the mire of debt which Pam and my Sookie had prepared for him, and I was happily helping to push him under. As he struggled to fund his new position in Shreveport, while still maintaining tribute payments to Felipe, he was steadily selling or mortgaging more and more of his assets, and through my agents I was steadily buying them up. This was part of my long-term strategy for his ruin. Soon, I would own him. Then, I would start to squeeze.

In the short term, I had made good use of the information that Compton had supplied me with. I had spoken long-distance with the English vampire, Lord Eskham, and we had had a _very_ interesting discussion. As I suspected, even though he was in America he had been completely unaware of the situation, and he had promised me that he would look into it, but I had heard nothing so far. Unless he did something soon, I was going to have to consider taking steps of my own.

This would involve my third line of attack, which was the most risky, and meant I would have to contact a person I had hoped never to encounter again. It was a last resort, but it was looking increasingly likely that I was going to have to accept a state of indebtedness to him. Try as I might, I could see no other way to achieve my objective.

I waded out of the water and onto the pebbled beach below my cabin, where I shook the water from my hair. I had felt sluggish and listless this evening, when I had lain futilely searching the bond at my rising. By now the bond was so exhausted that I would not have felt Sookie if she had been in the next room, but I had sworn I would think of her each dusk and I would keep my word. My lassitude was probably due to a lack of exercise, which is why I had chosen to swim across instead of fly. The shock of the cold water had helped a little. I decided that I would spend a few hours in sword practice tonight, to try and shake off this lethargy.

I looked about me as I rose slowly to the cliff edge and stepped onto the grass. It was a beautiful night; the moon was nearly full and the stars were like handfuls of crushed diamonds scattered on black velvet. I wished Sookie was there to share it with me.

As I walked towards my home my eyes, which had grown accustomed to the darkness, were briefly dazzled by the light streaming from the windows which I had left unshuttered. The breeze brought me the scent of the salt water, the tiny plants in the grass that gave up their fragrance as they were crushed beneath my feet, the pine resin from the forest, and …something else. I stopped in my tracks. A fugitive scent, just for a second. Damn! my mind was playing tricks on me again. Sometimes in the past three months, I had thought I heard her voice, or her step outside the door, or I had caught a glimpse of blonde hair through a lighted window and been stabbed by a shaft of hope, but it was never her. In the early days of my exile I had fantasised that she would appear on my doorstep one evening, but she never had. I knew it was not going to happen.

Even as that thought crossed my mind, there was a movement on my verandah, and a small figure rose from my rocking-chair and stepped into the light. I tensed, staring at the vision for what seemed like an eternity, although it could only have been a few seconds. My mind refused to take in what it was seeing. Then she smiled, and it was the loveliest thing I had ever seen. I began to believe, my fangs extended, my lips curved in a smile of my own and I said the words I had spoken to her in every fantasy I had ever created.

"Min lilla fru."

"Hello, Eric," she said, and the next instant she was in my arms.

I could not believe the intensity of the feelings that swept over me. I felt as though my chest would burst with happiness, as I crushed her to me, feeling her warm against my skin, devouring her beautiful face with my eyes. Her arms were about my neck and I stroked her glorious hair, almost silver in the moonlight, and then lowered my mouth to her parted lips. I was so filled with elation that I held her to me and then launched myself into the night sky, taking her with me as I rose. She gave one tiny squeak of surprise, her arms tightening round my neck as she felt us leave the ground and then she relaxed trustingly against me. My heart swelled. She knew she was safe in my arms.

We spiralled upwards, spinning slowly, until all the world lay silver below us, but we had eyes only for each other. Viking folklore says that paradise is to be found in Odin's feasting hall, Valhalla, but for me paradise was in my Sookie's arms, and the sparkling tears of happiness on her cheeks told me she felt the same. I captured them with my tongue, savouring the saltiness, remembering the last time I had tasted her tears in Las Vegas. But that was just a memory; this was the reality.

We hung suspended in the night sky, bathed in moonlight, our mouths tenderly re-discovering each other. We had not spoken since our first greeting but words were not necessary between us. I had almost forgotten her sweet taste and the soft, moist heat of her mouth as we kissed endlessly, over and over. I groaned with pleasure when her tongue curled round my new fangs. I had known in theory that newly regenerated parts were more sensitive than those which had been lost, but the explosion of ecstasy as she caressed them took me utterly by surprise. I could hardly wait to experience the feeling of feeding with them for the first time. And now that first feed would be from her! ! At that thought I felt my desire for her rising so I carefully took us back to earth again. We touched down outside the cabin, and I scooped her up and carried her in through the verandah doors. We passed through the living room and into the bedroom, still locked in our embrace.

I kicked the door shut and bent to place her on the bed, and she dragged me down with her, reluctant to break our kiss. I began to undress her but the buttons and zippers were in my way and my need to see her and feel her grew urgent, so I simply tore her clothes from her, casting them aside until she was lying naked beneath me, her hands caressing my shoulders. But something about her touch felt odd against my skin, and I paused, pulling away from her and moving her arm to where I could see it. She was wearing gloves; white cotton gloves. I could not understand why, as it was not cold, and I looked at her in puzzlement.

At last she spoke, and her voice was like music to me, even though the words were terrible. She said, "There was a fire."

"What? Where?" I sat up now, horrified. "Were you injured?"

She nodded, and looked at me with an expression I could not read.

"Some."

"Badly? May I see?" I could sense her reluctance.

"It doesn't look very nice, Eric. It's not healed yet."

"Show me." This time I spoke with authority and she slowly laid her hand in mine.

Carefully I peeled off the glove, and winced when I saw what lay beneath. "Is the other one the same?"

She nodded again, and I removed the second glove. If anything it looked worse.

"Are you in much pain, my treasure?" I could not bear the thought of her suffering.

"I was, but Niall came to see me and he took the pain away. He couldn't heal me, though."

"Surely some vampire or other must have offered you blood?" I ground my teeth at the thought, but I saw the necessity.

"Yes, quite a few, but I refused."

I was astonished. "Why would you do that?" I did not understand.

She looked up at me. "You know why."

Oh Gods. Now I understood. She was telling me that if she could not receive healing from me, she would rather bear the scars. What had I done to deserve such love, such loyalty? I shook with emotion, and although the ache in my loins was acute, I mastered it. My lover's need came first. Moving swiftly I sat up against the headboard, spreading my legs, and drew her to sit between them with her back against my chest. The feel of her skin against my own nakedness nearly pushed me over the edge, but I summoned every ounce of willpower I possessed, and bit into my wrist before bringing it to her mouth.

"Drink, my lover. Drink from me and be healed."

She took my arm in her poor burned hands and then her warm mouth was on me and I felt her drawing strongly on the tiny wounds. My head fell back and I closed my eyes as I fought the urge to brush her hair to one side and sink my fangs into her slender neck, feasting on her in my turn. Later, I told myself; be patient. But it was growing increasingly hard to restrain myself; I had not fed from a living being in three months, surviving on TrueBlood, and the strain was starting to tell. My left arm encircled her waist, holding her to me, and I could feel the bond renewing as she drank. Once I fed from her, it would be complete again. The sensation as she drank was a mixture of pain and pleasure; my head was swimming with bliss and I desperately wanted her to continue, but my groin was in agony. I groaned, battling for control. The tiny sounds she made as she sucked added to my torment and I clenched my teeth, praying for strength.

At last the wounds healed, she stopped drinking and I drew my arm away from her mouth and reached round to take her hands gently in mine. They already looked better; the redness was fading as I watched, and new skin was starting to form over the raw patches. I laid them in her lap and she leaned back against me, resting her head on my shoulder, and sighed. Through the bond I could tell that it was not a sigh that spoke of sadness. It was a sigh of contentment; a sigh that said she was where she wanted to be.

I lifted a handful of her hair and held it to my face, breathing in her scent. It was so familiar, and awoke so many memories. I began to kiss her neck and her shoulders, nuzzling at her ear, nibbling gently, and then my arms went round her and I began to caress her perfect breasts. The feel of the supple flesh under my fingers was exquisite and my hips flexed involuntarily. When she felt me moving she wriggled backwards, deliberately pressing herself against me and I could not resist her any longer. I grasped her round her waist, and turned her to face me, lifting her slightly and then moving her onto my stiffness, her knees straddling my thighs. She was as ready as I was, crying out softly as I entered her and my voice joined hers as her velvety heat enfolded me. I lowered my mouth to her breasts, flicking my tongue across the nipples in turn, and she moaned and moved slightly, sending a ripple of pleasure through me. I used my teeth very lightly, nipping at the sensitive tips, bringing them into quivering erectness, and at that she gasped and I heard her heartbeat accelerating.

Her passion was building and I knew it would not take much for her to go over the edge. I began to move her slowly on my length, rocking her gently, controlling her movement. She put her hands on my shoulders and arched her back, her silky hair floating behind her, and I watched the emotions chase across her lovely face as I began to induce feelings within her body that she had not experienced in four months. My own ardour and bloodlust was rising to a point almost beyond endurance and I knew I could wait no longer.

"Sookie, min älskade," I gasped, and my voice sounded hoarse in my ears, "se på mig, se på mig, nu." There was no reaction, and I realised I had spoken in Swedish. For many weeks I had been thinking and speaking in that language, and it now came more naturally to me than any other. I repeated my words in English. "Look at me, my lover, look at me, now." Her blue eyes opened and they were hazy with passion. "Do it, Eric," she said, and then she cried out as I struck deep into her tender breast, drinking with a fervour that had nothing to do with thirst and everything to do with my love for her. Dear God, the sensation was more intense than I could ever remember before. The taste of her blood drove me wild and I pulled back and roared with ecstasy before I plunged my fangs into her other breast, revelling in the feeling, lapping at the glorious crimson flood as it poured forth, filling me, sustaining me, strengthening me as I fed. I could feel her moving on me, crying out, and there was electricity running between us and then our bond was completed and we were together and the world went away and there were just the two of us and we were endlessly one in bliss.

When I came back to myself her face was hidden against my shoulder and she was limp in my arms, her body shaking with spasms of pleasure. I tightened my arms around her and held her until she was calm again and her breathing had slowed. Then I withdrew from her and pulled her down into the bed with me, pulling the comforter over us, lying together as we had so often done in the past, with her head tucked into the hollow of my right shoulder and her leg draped across both of mine. My arm was round her, holding her close to me and I pressed my lips to her fragrant hair. Her fingers played with the little curls on my chest, and I rejoiced to see them looking so much better. By morning they would be as good as new.

Then, at last, I asked her how she came to be here tonight, and she began to tell me the story of her last three months. I did not say anything as she spoke, _but_ _I felt. _She made light of her experiences but I could sense the fear, the loneliness, the grief she had suffered for my sake, and a tear fell as I listened. It fell on my chest and she noticed it, scooping it up with her finger and putting it to her mouth. She looked up at me, knowing I was sharing her emotions, and then she raised her head to kiss my scarlet-streaked face. "It doesn't matter, baby," she said. "I'm here now, and that's what matters." Her lips moved to mine, and we kissed again, long and slow. I could taste my blood on her lips, and my need for her began to make itself felt again.

I broke the kiss, my hands gripped her forearms, and I moved her to lie on her back next to me, while I lay on my right side, looking down at her. Her breathing deepened as my left hand began to caress her silken body, re-learning her curves and contours, but I did not remember feeling her bones through her skin like this. She had lost weight, and that told its own story. Victor and Felipe were going to pay for what they had put my love through; I swore it silently to myself and then I put the thought aside and addressed myself to her pleasure. My mouth began to move across her skin, planting delicate kisses as it went and I watched the goose pimples rising in response. I kissed my way along her collarbone, up her neck to the sensitive hollow behind her ear. My hand drifted lower and as my tongue darted into her ear, my fingers slid between her thighs and into her wetness. She sighed and opened to me a little and I began a familiar rhythm, smelling her arousal, feeling my own. My thumb circled and rubbed her pleasure centre gently, teasing, tormenting, as my fingers worked, and before long she was grinding against my hand and making the little sounds which I loved to hear. I withdrew my hand and licked my fingers, tasting her. Then I moved down the bed, parting her legs and settling myself with my mouth just at the sweet confluence of her thighs.

I inhaled her fragrance deeply, and looked up the length of her body, waiting to catch her gaze, then when I did so my tongue flicked out, licking at her folds. She reacted as though I had applied an electric shock, jerking and bucking against me. I smiled. The forced abstinence had evidently increased her responsiveness. I sucked lightly, nipping at her flesh and again her body was galvanised into motion, her hands going to the back of my head, pushing my face into her centre as she writhed. I loved being able to do this to her; I don't know who enjoyed it more, she or I. I began to alternate between light teasing strokes and long firm ones and she squirmed against me. Then I drove my tongue inside her, forcing her to new heights of bliss until she screamed and shook and my mouth was filled with the delicious evidence of her pleasure. My hands reached to her breasts, lightly pinching and playing with the nipples; I gave her no respite, but continued the sweet torment until her body was flushed with arousal and her hands were clenching and unclenching in my hair. "Eric, please." Her voice was ragged.

"Yes, min älskade?"

"I want…I _need_ you."

I smiled and said, "what do you need, Sookie?"

"I need you inside me…_now."_

That was what I had been waiting to hear. I swiftly moved up until I was over her. The tip of my penis just kissed her entrance and she jerked and writhed as she felt me there, spreading her legs still further. Her hands were on my butt, trying to push me into her, but I was not ready to enter her just yet. Again I waited until she was looking at me, rubbing my penis against her, waiting until she was moaning, "please, Eric, please…" Then my mouth covered hers and she gasped as I slid into her and began long, slow strokes, pausing for an age each time before withdrawing, knowing it was driving her wild, burying myself deeper with each thrust. I hissed as now her nails dug into my back, spurring me on, and in spite of myself I began to increase my speed. Her knees came up and she locked her legs around me, allowing me even deeper into her body. Gods, she was so tight and wet! Soon I was slamming into her with sufficient strength to shake the bed, forcing an animal noise from her with each blow of my body. I knew at the back of my mind that I should be gentle with her, but it had been too long. My blood was pounding in my ears and I kissed her face and hair in a frenzy, unable to stop myself, and my hands roamed her smooth flesh. Then she raised her head and took my nipples into her hot little mouth in turn. I yelled as she did so and then she used her teeth and a sharp ecstasy shot through me. I could sense her blood, loaded with pheromones, as it pulsed just below the surface of her skin and I put my hand in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing the lovely column of her throat. She said, "Yes, Eric… do it now." She was convulsing beneath me as I drove my fangs into her jugular and she screamed in pain and joy, coming with a force that shook her entire body. I felt her body spasming around my shaft, the scent and taste of her blood intoxicated me and I was just a few seconds behind her. I heard my own voice saying "Du är min" and I climaxed with a yell of triumph and release, my hips pumping fiercely as I filled her and then I collapsed on top of her, and we were both shaking and gasping and laughing for sheer happiness as the ecstasy washed over us. Her arms were round me, clasping me to her and I knew life could hold no greater joy.

Later, much later, she continued her interrupted story, and this time I allowed her to complete it without any distractions other than my continual playing with her hair and nibbling on her delectable shoulders as she nestled against me, her back to my chest. I could not resist that, but I listened carefully.

I was pleased that she had discovered a way to access the files relating to my trial, although I wished she could have done so without Compton's help. I did not like him having any contact with her, particularly when I was not there. I was not sure whether there would be anything of use in the transcripts, but I kept my thoughts to myself. It gave her a purpose while I pursued my own measures.

I laughed out loud when she told me that she had asked Madden if she could borrow his pen when she came to sign the contract with Felipe. I would have given anything to have seen his face at that moment. My little love had a sense of mischief that matched my own on occasion.

When she told me of the foiled FOTS attack and her rescue of Eskham, I was so proud of her that I felt I would burst. This was a mate fit for me! Courageous, determined, resourceful, beautiful, loving. What more could any man or vampire want? And she was mine! Bonded to me! I exulted fiercely in her beauty and bravery. I was glad she had managed to save Eskham. It appeared that he had not told her his purpose in visiting Louisiana and Nevada, and as I respected his judgment in this matter I decided not to mention my contact with him. He was a better judge of the appropriate time for that little revelation, but I wished I could be there to see it.

Just then, the alarm on my sunset watch sounded from where I had laid it on the nightstand, and I reached across to turn it off. Normally I put it on after I returned from my island, but tonight I had been distracted by…other matters. Sookie looked over curiously, and we compared the two diamond and pearl straps which I had commissioned specially. Although hers was much more delicate than mine, the pattern was the same in every respect. I told her that no-one else in the world had watches identical to these, and suggested that as they were so elegant we could continue to wear them simply as jewellery, now that we had no further need of them to keep us connected.

Then she looked at me with troubled eyes, and plunged a dagger into my heart. She told me of the plan that my child and the demon lawyer had made for her to visit me here, and I was shaken to my core to discover that she was intending to leave me again in three days! I had thought she and I would never part again! I was devastated, and tried to dissuade her, but she looked at me with utter determination in her face and said,

"No, Eric. I have to go back."

"I do not see why. Felipe could not find you here."

"That's not the point. Firstly, if I don't go back, we will never be able to prove your innocence and you won't be able to come home."

"Everything I want is right here," I growled, and I hugged her fiercely, kissing the nape of her neck while running one of my hands down towards her centre. She wriggled delightfully, but was not to be distracted, moving my hand away. Sighing, I allowed her to do so.

"You know that just isn't true, baby. You want your life back, and I want you back where you belong. You'd never be happy hiding out in the backwoods like this. You belong at the centre of power. In the last few months I've seen quite a lot of vamp politics, and although it doesn't do a thing for me, I can see why you love it and how you just fit right in there and I think you miss it. You're so good at it, all the intrigue and manoeuvring and such."

"Not so good at it that Victor couldn't trick me," I said ruefully.

"So you're not infallible. That's a _real_ good lesson to learn, honey, and it'll just make you more careful. You won't fall for anything like that ever again. And while we're talking about Victor, don't you want to get back at him? I sure as hell do."

"I can do that from here."

"You'd enjoy it a whole lot more if you were there to see it, and you know it."

"True. But I will need more of a reason than personal vengeance and my enjoyment of politics to allow you to leave me."

"How about that if I don't go back to Cancun we'll be leaving Matt high and dry? He's holding the fort at the moment, but you can't tell me Felipe won't come looking for me if I'm not back in Vegas at the end of the week. He'll find Matt and then it won't take him long to find out about Pam and Mr C. And then what do you think he'll do to them? Are you happy to let your _child_ carry the can for my disappearance_? _That doesn't sound like the Eric Northman I know."

Damn her, she was right. I would have to let her go. The disappointment drove me into a fury and I struck the headboard with my fist, snarling my frustration. It cracked clean across, and she jumped, startled at the suddenness and ferocity of my outburst. Just for an instant she looked scared, and I felt very guilty. I had forgotten she was human. Pam would not even have commented on my behaviour, much less been startled by it. "I am sorry, my lover, but the thought of losing you again is driving me crazy."

Her voice was irritating in its reasonableness as she said, "Baby, I don't want to go back, you know that, but I have to. Please let's try to enjoy the time we have, and not spoil it. I want to be able to remember these few nights without anything bad. Please?" I looked at her, considering all the possible options. The gods alone knew how much I wanted her with me, but if she was strong enough to leave, I had to be strong enough to let her leave. Although it nearly killed me to utter the words, I said,

"Very well, I will permit it. On condition that you do not leave my side for the next three days and nights. I will have you near me."

I could tell she did not like the hint of imperiousness in my tone; she pulled away and scrambled onto her knees, facing me, the stubborn look that I knew so well appeared on her face, and I guessed I was in for a struggle. Sure enough, her next words were in what I thought of as her fighting voice.

"Oh, you '_will permit it_', will you? You '_will have me near you'_, will you? Well, I guess I have a say in that too, Mr High and Mighty. If you think I'm gonna traipse around after you all night, chained to your side like some kind of _pet_, you can think again mister! We may be bonded, but that does not mean you own me! I don't heel for anybody!"

"Now Sookie, be reasonable, I only meant….."

"Don't you tell me to be reasonable, buddy!" By now she was working herself up into a real fury. I gaped at her, at a loss to know where this was coming from. She practically shouted at me, "I am not about to be pushed around by you; not now, not ever. I have stood up to Victor Madden for you, I've faced down the king and Sandy and I've gone into torture chambers and I've seen a whole lot of scary shit and I've left my home and my friends and I've flown halfway round the world to see you and I'm not about to be told what _you_ will and will not permit!" She was yelling the last words, and then to my horror she flung her arms around me and burst into tears.

I hated it when she cried. I had never got used to it, even though back in Shreveport it was such a regular occurrence that I had gotten into the habit of carrying at least two handkerchiefs whenever I was with her. I had lost count of the number of my clothes she had wept on, but at least that was not a consideration at the moment. I could feel her emotions through the bond, and I now knew what was wrong. I put my arms around her and held her close, waiting for the storm to subside, murmuring words of comfort to her, telling her how proud of her I was, how brave and strong she had been, and most of all how much I loved her and how I would never attempt to coerce her against her will.

She clung to me with astonishing strength, her sobs gradually subsiding until at last she reached the hiccupping stage and I dried her face with a fragment of whatever it was that she had been wearing (it was completely unrecognisable as I had been quite enthusiastic when I had removed it earlier in the evening. It was blue, and that's about all I could tell). She lay quiet in my arms, and I kissed her and told her that I loved her, over and over again.

She sniffed and said, "I'm so sorry, Eric, I don't know what happened. There's me saying I don't want anything to spoil our time together and then I go and yell at you like I don't know what."

I hugged her. "My dearest, please don't apologise. What I said was badly expressed and you had every right to be annoyed at my…high-handedness." This was an expression that she had taught me, and I had no problem with using it. I felt it described me very accurately. I continued,

"I think I know what is wrong. You are emotionally and physically exhausted." I spotted another danger signal flaring in her eyes and hastily qualified my words. "That does not mean that you did not mean what you said; I am not suggesting that your fatigue means your views should not be taken seriously. But had you not been so weary you would probably have chosen different words in which to express them. But I am responsible, as I should have been more aware of your needs in this respect." Her expression softened and I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Crisis averted. I had forgotten how sensitive she could be to any suggestion that she was governed by her emotions or physical limitations. I would be more careful in my choice of words for the future.

"Damn, I hate being all stupid and weepy like this, like some pathetic little bimbo."

"Sookie, you are as far from being pathetic as anyone I have ever met. You have the spirit of a warrior; you have kept yourself strong for many months, and you have done a spectacular job, but everyone has their limits, and you have reached yours. You are jet-lagged, you are stressed and you have been under an enormous strain for far too long." She started to speak but I hushed her and continued.

"Did you not just say that the reason Felipe allowed you the holiday is because Ludwig cautioned him that you were about to break down? Did you think she was joking? Every warrior knows that a bow cannot be kept strung for ever. Periodically the tension has to be released, or it will crack. You are near that point. You are fond of telling me that your Grandmother always said that a woman can do whatever she has to, but now that you have done what you had to your body and mind need to rest. While you were in danger you kept going, but now that you are with me your subconscious knows that you are safe and it has let down your defences. You have been so strong, and I love you for it, but now let me be your strength. Do you remember the state I was in when you found me in Felipe's prison? I was near the end of my endurance. Had you not come, I don't think I would have ever emerged from my hurricane-room and I would have been lost for ever. You were strong for me then; I will be strong for both of us now. Trust me, lover, and let me care for you while I may." She considered my words, hearing the truth in them.

"And you won't try and make me stay?"

"No, lover. You are your own person, I trust you to make your own decisions, however painful they are for me. Naturally I want you to stay, but if you feel you must go back I will not try to dissuade you. Although, I hope very much you will stay with me for the rest of the night."

"Of course I will. I didn't mean I didn't want to stay with you; I just…" I put my finger to her lips.

"I know. You just resented my making assumptions. And rightly so. But now, I think you need to sleep, my little love."

"No," she protested. "I don't want to miss a minute of our time together. I'm not going to waste it sleeping."

"Dear heart, I too wish to share every second with you, but you have yawned three times in the last five minutes. Your mind and heart says no, but your body is saying yes. There are only two hours till dawn, and you need rest. You will enjoy what I am planning for tomorrow night so much more if you are refreshed and ready." I grinned suggestively, drawing an answering smile from her. "Now, snuggle down under the covers, and let me watch over you. I will wake you before the dawn to say goodnight."

"You promise?" She was reluctant to admit it, but I could feel through the bond how tempted she was by the thought of sleep. For me, it was important that she should rest now, as there were things I needed to do because of her presence.

"I promise. Go to sleep, and I will wake you before I go to rest."

"Hold me until I fall asleep, then."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Well, almost nothing." She smiled at my words, and we both wriggled down under the comforter, and I spooned against her from behind, my arms around her, and she relaxed against me with a sigh.

Then I held her close, inhaling her scent, feeling her heart beating, listening to her breathing gradually slowing, becoming more regular, until at last she slept in my arms.

**Swedish**

min älskade = My love

Du är min = you are mine

se på mig, se på mig, nu = look at me, look at me now


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry it's been a while since my last update. This is quite a long chapter and it's taken me a time to put it together.**

**Thanks to Mia for information on the Swedish bastu - again, any errors are mine and not hers, and probably result from my deviating from the information she kindly supplied.**

**There's not a great deal happens in the way of plot advancement, but there's rather more of the Eric we know and worship, plus a hint of lemon.**

**I hope you enjoy it - please review.**

Chapter 17

Eric woke me just before dawn, and we made love again, slow and gentle and tender, sharing our pleasure through the bond, strengthening it with our blood, and then he held me and kissed me goodnight (or good morning – I'd never gotten used to which way round I should say it) and gradually slipped away from me into his death-sleep. I didn't normally like to watch him do this, but tonight I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was lying on his side facing towards me as he said he wanted my face to be the last thing he saw as his eyes closed, and I curled against his side, pulling his arm, which was now a dead weight, across me and snuggling underneath it before drifting off back to sleep until I was awoken by that perennial favourite, good old "human needs." Jeez, I sometimes saw the attraction in being a vampire.

As it was, I slid out from under Eric's arm and tugged the bedclothes back over him. I know it didn't make the tiniest bit of difference to him, but it didn't feel right leaving him lying there uncovered, although I must admit I didn't object to the view! Then I turned on the light and saw the wreckage of yesterday's clothes lying scattered round the room before remembering that all my spare clothes were in the rucksack which, to the best of my remembrance, was still on the verandah. Oh great. He'd shredded my underwear (plus everything else!) and I was going to have to go out there in the altogether to collect some fresh. I got out of bed, and as I did so, I noticed my hands. Oh wow! They looked healthy and supple and absolutely normal again. I spent a couple of minutes inspecting them minutely and wriggling the fingers. Not a hint of stiffness, not a twinge. No sign that they'd ever been damaged. Even the tiny freckles on my wrist had re-appeared. Good old thousand-year-old vampire blood - works every time.

I shivered - it was pretty chilly in his bedroom (no heating, remember?) and I remembered what I was meant to be doing. I scurried across to the door before suddenly stopping as I reached for the handle. Daylight! Had he closed the shutters last night? What would happen if I opened the bedroom door? I hesitated, but my bladder reminded me I couldn't stand there all day, so I turned the handle and eased the door open just a crack, holding my breath and ready to slam it again at the first hint of natural light, but it was completely dark and I heaved a sigh of relief before opening it all the way and fumbling for a light-switch in the living room. When I found it and turned it on I could see the shutters were well and truly up. He must have got up after I'd gone to sleep and seen to all that.

He'd brought my rucksack in as well, and I rooted through it for some more clothes. Then I headed for the shower room. Oh. That's exactly what it was – a shower room. There was nothing in there but a shower – a big one - some closets and a basin. I pulled a face as it dawned on me I was going to have to go outside and hope that the little hut in the woods was what I thought it was. Damn, why hadn't I thought about this before and asked him about it? Well, I knew why really. I'd had one or two other things on my mind last night. Oh well. I pulled on some underwear and then topped it off with my coat and boots and had a look at the shutters on the glass doors. The locking bars looked fairly simple to use – just a lever sort of arrangement and I was just about to operate them when I had another just-in-time thought. Bedroom door, Sookie! Whoops – I'd nearly fried my boyfriend. I closed the door to the bedroom carefully, and then operated the levers locking the shutters top and bottom and folded them back before turning the key and stepping out through the glass doors onto the verandah.

It was a beautiful day. Or at least, it had been. I'd slept so long that the sun was heading for the horizon, shining straight into the front of the cabin. That must have been why it was so cold in the bedroom – it was in shadow. I could hear the sea down on the beach, and there was a fresh breeze blowing towards me from the glittering horizon. I hurried round the side of the cabin to where the little lean-to stood back among the trees. As I approached it, I saw that all the creepers had gone from the door. Eric had sure been busy last night. When I pulled the door open, it was exactly what I'd hoped for. He'd evidently spent some time smartening it up, because although it was primitive (what Jason charmingly referred to as a 'long-drop') it was spotlessly clean, with no bugs or creepy-crawlies and there was a fresh supply of tissue in there. I wondered where he'd got that from – I was pretty sure he wasn't gonna keep it in the house on the chance the neighbours might drop by. He must have gone and gotten it specially for me.

I did what I had to do and hurried back into the house to wash my hands (at least there was hot water – a sort of furnace kicked into life when I opened the faucet) and investigated the shower. Typically for a vamp, it was large and luxurious – a lot more so than the rest of the cabin, which was more on the simple, homey side, but vamps do seem to love their ablutions. I turned on the hot water and checked out the wall closets while I waited for it to get to temp. They were full of fluffy towels and expensive looking shower gels and hair products. I made a quick selection, then I stripped off and stepped into the boiling spray. It was fantastic but I didn't stay in for long. If that was a rainwater storage tank on the roof, I didn't know how much was left in it, and Eric wouldn't be too pleased if I used it all. By the time I'd done a quick once-over and washed my hair I was boiled red as a lobster. I towelled off, brushed my teeth, got dressed (fully, this time) and went back into the living room and started opening the shutters. Now the sun was coming in, it looked a lot more cheerful, and I had a good look round. There was a fire laid ready in the grate, behind a fireguard. I hadn't forgotten how fond Eric was of real fires, in spite of being so flammable himself. I remembered seeing a big pile of logs out back, so he obviously used it; I guess he just didn't get too close. Right over the fireplace was a huge sword, hanging vertically. I wondered if Eric ever used it. It looked way too big for a normal man, but then Eric wasn't normal. He wasn't even a man. There were shelves on two of the walls, which held books and CDs and stuff, and the rest of the wall-space had these fabulous trophies all over them. I'd have to ask him about them if we had time.

There was a note for me on the coffee-table in his distinctive handwriting.

_My lover_

_Your presence here has made me happier than I can express, and I cannot wait for sunset tonight. Everything here is yours. You will find food in the fridge and in the closets under the microwave. Please eat well; you are too thin. I have also prepared the necessary facilities for your human needs, in the building to the east of this cabin. If there is anything at all that you desire, call the number below and my agent Hjalmar will bring it to you. Please be patient, my angel, as it will take him a little time to reach you, but he has been instructed to hold himself in readiness for your commands. _

_Go anywhere you wish today; you are on my land and there is nothing here that can harm you. There is a boat below the cliff if you wish to use it, but please be careful. I love you._

_Until tonight_

_Your Eric_

He was just so thoughtful. I looked in the closet and there were fresh Danishes (or should that be Swedishes?) and jelly, bread and fruit. There was also a packet of something called O'Boy, which looked like chocolate milk powder. I couldn't read the instructions but the picture on the packet was pretty clear, and I thought I'd give it a whirl later. In the fridge was milk, OJ, cheese, butter and three different types of sliced meat (and stacks and stacks of TrueBlood). He must have really gone to town once I fell asleep last night. Literally. Speaking of which, I didn't know exactly where the nearest town was, but I guessed he must have flown there. I wondered what his top airspeed was, and made a mental note to ask him. I smiled as I pictured him "preparing the necessary facilities". It wasn't something you imagined a vampire Sheriff doing on a regular basis, but I was grateful that he at least acknowledged that I was human. Bill had always had trouble doing that.

I grabbed a Danish and some strawberries and the OJ and went to sit outside in the rocking chair. The view was great, and the only sound was the waves, and the wind in the pine-trees, and the seagulls. I just sat and enjoyed the peace and the sun and the knowledge that it was about as private as you could get. I nibbled the food and drank the OJ straight from the carton. Although there had been glasses in the cupboard, I hadn't seen any crockery or silverware. Oh well, I couldn't expect him to think of everything. Never using it himself, it probably never occurred to him. Still, I was quite happy eating with my fingers.

The sun was going down out over the sea, and I willed it to hurry up, but of course it didn't. There were no clouds, and the sky gradually turned a soft jacaranda blue colour, which was really beautiful. I just sat quietly and relaxed. I could almost feel myself unwinding. I had so needed this. As I sat there, I saw a tiny movement out of the corner of my eye, and a little rabbit hopped into my line of vision. It was brown, with a white scut, and it was just hopping and nibbling slowly as it went, completely at ease in the sunset. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so happy. I was clean, I was fed, I was rested, my hands were better and I would be seeing my Eric in a very few minutes. Just now, that was enough.

My watch beeped and I got up, brushing the crumbs off of me, and hurried back inside. My hair was still damp, but there was no hairdryer so it would just have to stay that way.

As a precaution I flipped the shutters closed without locking them, went into the bedroom, took off my clothes and snuggled under the sheets and comforter, creeping back under Eric's arm. He hadn't moved, of course. I turned to look at him and just lay watching his face. He looked like a sleeping angel. No, that was wrong. His face was far more masculine than that, and had far more character to it. He looked like what he was – a sleeping Viking.

"Mmmm…" He murmured and stirred slightly, and then his eyes opened and I was gazing straight into the intense blueness that never failed to take me by surprise, it was so startling against his pale face.

He blinked once, his gaze focussed on me and then he smiled that slow, lazy smile that I loved, and drew me to him. "Min älskade." he said.

I melted into his embrace, my own smile so wide I thought it would split my face in two. "Did you sleep well, honey?"

"I dreamed that a good spirit had come to visit me, and now I find it wasn't a dream at all, because you are still here and that makes me very happy."

"Even though I yelled at you last night?" I was still feeling pretty guilty about that.

"It is forgotten." He stroked my hair and kissed me. That was another really good thing about having a vampire partner; no morning breath - ever.

"Really? I didn't come all this way just to pick a fight with you, honest."

"Sookie, my lover, there are three things in this world that I enjoy more than anything; feeding, fighting and fucking. I would rather do all three of them with you than with anyone else."

"Well, I don't enjoy fighting, even with you."

His voice changed and became like honey. "Then we'd better concentrate on the other two." He held me close and kissed me tenderly, his tongue gently parting my lips. I responded, my mood matching his, and his hands began to drift over me before he rolled on top of me, never breaking the kiss, and we made gentle love. He fed from me, his fangs piercing my skin so softly I barely felt it. It was amazing the way a vampire could make such a difference in the way they chose to feed. I had been bitten a couple of times by vamps who had had no time or inclination for subtleties, and then it had hurt like Hades, but this; I could only describe this as a love-bite, because that's what it was. He loved me, and I loved him. I loved him so _much._

When we had enjoyed each other for a _very_ long time, and he had inspected my newly-healed hands carefully, kissing each finger as he did so, he went for a shower, and I got dressed again and tidied up in the bedroom, making the bed and gathering and throwing away the fragments of my clothes from last night. I sighed over the shredded top, because it was a real pretty blue one that I had worn specially for the occasion, and I don't think he even noticed it.

As I came out of the bedroom, I could hear him humming in the shower. It was odd, I don't think I'd ever heard a vampire hum before. He had a very deep voice, as you'd expect, and it was really resonant. As I listened, I found myself smiling, because I thought I recognised the tune. It was something classical I'd heard at Bill's house.

There were CDs scattered on the table and a quick flip through the cases confirmed what I'd been thinking. It was Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony. I had a brief "standing outside of myself" moment; it was like I was looking at my life from someone else's perspective, and it looked so strange.

If you had told me five years ago that today I would be standing in a log cabin on the North Sea coast, listening to a _vampire_ humming Beethoven in the shower, I would probably have laughed myself sick, and yet here I was. How surreal was _that? _I laughed to myself.

"What is amusing you, my lover?" I had been so wrapped in my thoughts I hadn't heard the shower door open, but he was standing in the doorway, towelling his hair dry and looking at me.

"I was just thinking how weird it felt to be here." I smiled at him.

"Weird?" he walked towards me, and I felt the familiar surge of lust as I took in his physique. All of it.

"Weird but good." I hugged him and he put both his arms round me and pressed my head to his chest with his big hand. I loved to stand there with my eyes closed, pressed against him, feeling safe, and wanted, and _totally_ protected. Eric did that for me like no-one else I had ever known. He kissed the top of my head and said,

"To me, it feels right that you are here, with me."

"Honey, I could be anywhere with you and it would feel right. You know that."

"I am glad to hear it, because tonight we are going to go out."

"Really? Where?"

"Somewhere that you will enjoy. I am going to pamper you while I have you, my lover, so put on your shoes and a warm coat while I get dressed and then we will go. I assume you have a car somewhere near?"

"Yes, it's at the head of the track leading from the main road. It's about an hour's walk away, though."

"That will not be a problem. I shall be with you very shortly." He disappeared into the bedroom and I put my boots on and dug my shoulder purse out of my rucksack. Before I had finished he was back, looking fabulous in black designer jeans, a tailored cream shirt open at the neck and a black silk blazer. Yum. GQ, eat your heart out. I caught a glimpse of gold in the neckline of the shirt and asked him, "what's that, baby?"

He looked down. "This?" He fished down inside his shirt and drew out a locket on a chain. He opened it carefully and showed me my own portrait, together with a lock of yellow hair which was braided into a ring so that it fit inside. He continued, "This has been with me ever since I left you in Shreveport. It kept me sane in my prison-cell, and it has been my comfort and solace for the past three months."

"I don't remember seeing it last night."

"I do not wear it when I…go swimming. It is not waterproof." I knew he meant when he went to the little island, but as far as I was concerned, that was off-limits. I wasn't going to go there, in any sense of the word. The photo, however, I felt I could ask about.

"Where did you get the picture?" I didn't remember that one ever having been taken.

"I got it from the witch." He meant Amelia. He almost never used her name, just like he nearly always called Sam 'the shifter'. "Do you remember, she took some pictures in your yard when she was staying with you last summer? I told her I was going to be away for a month, and she emailed me a copy."

"Amelia has your email address?" That was a surprise.

"One of them. I have a great many." That _wasn't_ a surprise. "And now, my love, please get your coat, we should be going. Do you have your car keys?"

I grabbed my new warm coat, patted my pocket to be sure of the keys, and we headed outside.

It was fully dark now. There were a million stars, and a faint wash of silver light in the sky where the moon had risen but was still hidden behind the trees from where we were. Eric turned to me and lifted me into his arms, Rhett Butler-style.

"Put your arms around my neck, Sookie," he said. "You will probably find it best if you turn your face to my chest, otherwise the wind will sting your eyes."

I did as he suggested, and then he lifted off from the ground, heading inland over the trees. I felt the rush of the wind in my hair and tugging at my clothes, and I knew we were going really fast, but I didn't have any real sense of progress because I kept my face hidden against his chest. I tried looking round once, but he was quite right; the wind was so strong my eyes filled with tears instantly and I couldn't see a thing. But after only four or five minutes the wind died away as he slowed, and then he was taking us down through the trees and we were right by my hire-car.

"Eric!" I was stunned. "How far have we just come?"

"As the crow flies? About three miles, maybe a little more." He was inspecting the car.

"And you did that in five minutes? How fast were you flying?"

"I'm not sure. Somewhere between thirty and forty miles an hour, I suppose."

"Eric, how fast can you fly?" I was really curious, but he didn't seem interested.

"I don't know – I have never tested my limits. Give me the car keys. "

I handed them over, but I wasn't ready to give up yet. "Really? I mean, can you fly as fast as a bird?"

"Yes." He was brushing twigs and leaves from the car hood.

"How about as fast as a plane?"

"Yes. Get into the car, Sookie."

"_Really? _You can fly as fast as an aeroplane?"

"I suppose so. I kept up with the fighter planes during the last war with no difficulty. Now, _please_ get into the car_." _He was growing impatient.

Jeez Louise, was I bonded to Superman? (Is it a bird, is it a plane, no it's Supervamp!) I kept that train of thought to myself and got into the car.

"Hey, how come you're driving?" I was suddenly mildly indignant.

"Because I know where we're going. It is not far."

I subsided, grumbling that we probably weren't insured, and he gunned the engine, driving way too fast down the little wooded track and squealing out onto the main drag, leaving rubber behind us on the tarmac.

"Eric! Mortal in the car! Remember?"

"Of course, my lover. Don't you trust me?" The moonlight flashed on his fangs as he grinned. He loved a good adrenaline rush.

"Not behind the wheel of a car," I muttered, and then just concentrated on not screaming out loud as he stormed down the road. He was right, though. It was only about twenty minutes before we turned off the road and onto a long driveway which ran up a slight slope through trees, and then as we breasted the hill he brought the car to a stop. I breathed again and could see down below an open valley with a lighted complex of buildings next to a lake. There were floodlit tennis courts and I could see a couple of areas that had glass roofs with coloured lights shining up through, and there was a golf course away to my right.

"Welcome to Valhalla," said Eric.

"Valhalla?"

"It's a luxury country club and spa. I am a member here, and we are going to enjoy some of its facilities this evening. I told you I was going to pamper you. Dr Ludwig says you need to unwind, and I am going to see that you do." He started the engine again, and we drove at a more sedate pace down the winding slope and pulled into the parking lot.

In an instant he was on my side of the car, opening my door. He took my hand to help me out, and I smiled my thanks, real ladylike. As we crossed to the main building, Eric said,

"By the way, Sookie, I am not known as Eric Northman here. That is the name I use in America. Here I am Leif Anderssen. Please try and remember not to call me Eric."

"OK, honey. Is that why you called yourself Leif when we were in Dallas and Jackson?"

"Yes. Although I have many identities, these are the two that I use most frequently. Too many and there is a risk of confusing the details."

We were in through the main doors by now, and into a spacious reception area. There was a desk about half a mile away, with a pretty girl sitting behind it, and she smiled as we approached. When she got an eyeful of Eric her smile suddenly became a whole lot warmer, and she sat up straight.

"God afton," she said, remembering to include me in her smile just in time. Although I couldn't understand Swedish, I could tell what her mind was saying. "Lucky bitch, how did she get hold of him? I wouldn't mind a piece of that," sounds the same in any language in the world.

"Good evening," said Eric in reply. "Please speak English, my wife does not understand Swedish." Just the tiniest emphasis on 'wife' and I squeezed his hand gratefully. He went on, "I have reserved the private våtbastu and the couples' suite for this evening."

"Of course. May I see your membership card, please?"

Eric produced a credit-card sized piece of gold plastic, with a large black V on one side and just a number on the other. No names.

"Thank you." She made a note of the number and then pressed a button on the desk.

"Your attendants this evening will be Johann and Lucia."

"I should prefer Trude and Lars."

She looked doubtful. "Lars is on duty tonight, but Trude is not in. Lucia is very skilled…" her voice tailed away as Eric frowned.

"I wish to see Trude. Call her and tell her that Leif Anderssen requires her."

The receptionist's face changed. "At once," she said and reached for the phone.

While she was dialling I tugged Eric's hand. "Eri…Leif, you can't do that!" I hissed.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes I can."

"What gives you the right to call someone and order them into work just like that?"

"The fact that I am her employer."

"What! ? !"

"I own this club, and my employees know that I expect them to be available when _I_ want them. Trude is the best masseuse here. Don't worry, she will be well paid for any inconvenience."

"How would you like it if we were together and Sam Merlotte phoned me and asked me to come in and cover a shift for someone with no notice?"

"He frequently does, and I do not like it at all. But you go, don't you? And he does not even pay you extra for obliging him."

Damn, he'd got me there. "Well, it's still not polite," I grumbled. "I hope she turns you down. It would serve you right."

Just then the receptionist completed her call, and said, "Trude is on her way, but it will take her about an hour to get here. May I suggest you enjoy some of the other facilities while you are waiting?" Her face and tone of voice _and_ mind all said, "_please_ be okay with this, _please_ don't blame me."

Eric considered a moment and then said, "We will swim. Have the Italian Pool cleared."

Somehow I just knew what he meant even before the girl reached for her microphone and started broadcasting that the 'Italian Pool' (whatever that was) was now closing, and member were asked to leave the water immediately.

Again, I said, "You're ordering these people out? Just for us? You can't do that!"

"I thought we had just established that I can." Oh yeah. Owner. I forgot. I was really gonna have to stop telling Eric that he couldn't do things. I'm not sure he even understood the concept.

I tried one more time.

"You know I don't have a swimsuit, right?"

"You will not need one. I do not have one either."

"So, you're suggesting we go skinny-dipping?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I am having the pool cleared? I know your modesty, my love, and I am anticipating your needs as a good husband should." Dammit, how did he do that? How did he manage to make his totally outrageous behaviour seem completely reasonable?He led the way across the acres of carpet to a swing-door which opened to his card, and I gave up and followed him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

As we walked down a long carpeted corridor decorated in cream and pink, I considered the phenomenon that was Eric Northman. That was the right word – he was like some natural phenomenon – a twister or a tidal wave – powerful, unpredictable, completely uncontrollable, and totally altering the life of anyone who came into contact with it. Imagine being on your way home from work, and getting caught up in a twister which then dumped you right on your own doorstep. You wouldn't know whether to be pleased or scared witless, you'd probably be both, but you wouldn't have any choice in the matter. That's what it felt like being with Eric.

Although he acknowledged a higher authority than himself in the vampire community (just about), when it came to humans he regarded most of them as being somewhere between cockroaches and sheep, and he just moved through their world bending everything and everyone around him. He was like a star or planet with a huge gravity field that just sucked everything else in, making things and people change orbit as they came near him. He wasn't even aware that he was doing it, most of the time; he hardly ever had to glamour anyone, as he assumed people would just fit in with what he wanted, and nine times out of ten they did.

He opened a door which led into a changing area, and he walked straight through to the far side, not even glancing around. I was still behind him at this point, and I could see the effect he was having on people. There was kind of like a bubble of silence that travelled with him. There were plenty of people in there, towelling off after their swim had been cut short, and as he approached them they fell silent and their heads turned, following his progress, only for the conversations to start up again after he had passed, usually in hushed tones of voice. I followed just behind the ripple of hush, smiling in an embarrassed way at the staring people.

Mr Large and In Charge didn't even notice them.

We came out into a beautiful glass-walled area, full of tropical plants, and with a beautiful rectangular pool set about with statues, with a shallow flight of steps at one end. This must be the Italian Pool. The walls were all mosaic-ed with scenes from (I guessed) ancient Rome, and there were vines hanging thickly from a trellis overhead. The pool itself was tiled in deepest royal blue and had golden stars and fish inset in some of the tiles. There was a couple of diving boards and a number of loungers round the sides of the pool and it was beautifully warm. There was light classical music coming over the speakers.

A white-uniformed attendant came forward with a basket of fluffy towels and a velvety robe for each of us, and Eric took the basket, tossing the robes onto a nearby lounger.

"Leave us," he said, and the young man took off, registering thankfulness as he did so.

Then Eric turned and smiled at me. "This is the Italian Pool, my love. Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's beautiful, but I'm not sure I want a swim right now…" I broke off as I saw the look in his eye. He wasn't going to be argued with.

"Don't be stubborn, Sookie, and take your clothes off."

"Not yet, I just want to sit a while." I was just making excuses, and he knew it. His fangs came down.

"My lover, you can keep your clothes on if you wish, but like it or not, you are going into that water in thirty seconds." He began to remove his own clothes swiftly, laying them over the back of one of the loungers.

"Eric, I…"

"Leif. Twenty-five seconds."

"Leif, then…Do we have to…"

"Twenty seconds." Now he was taking off his watch and his neck-chain, putting them in the pockets of the robe.

"Damn you, Eri…Leif…Oh all right, I'm taking them off!" I hurriedly began to unzip my coat as he advanced towards me, a determined look in his eye. He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"ten…nine…eight…" the count continued, and I just managed to struggle out of my underwear before his arms were round me and he lifted me from my feet. I shrieked and struggled futilely as he walked over to the side of the pool. I couldn't believe he was going to do this, but he was! I took a deep breath just in time as he dropped me with an almighty splash and then I was submerged in warm water before surfacing, gasping and shaking my hair back. I wiped my eyes and glared at him as he stood on the side of the pool, looking down at me, his eyes alight with laughter.

"How's the water?" he asked.

"You son-of-a… actually, it feels pretty good," I admitted. "Come on in."

He took a couple of steps back and then entered the water with a perfect running dive, going deep below the surface before gliding the full width of the pool underwater, turning at the far side and coming back before bobbing up next to me, grinning, and shaking his hair back. Show-off.

He put his hands round my waist and pulled me close. "Aren't you glad now that you chose to come in?"

"Chose? Fat lot of choice you gave me, buster!" I splashed him, mock indignant, and he let me go, splashing me in his turn. Really, it did feel great. It was very warm, and I felt myself starting to relax. I'd never been skinny-dipping before, and the water on my naked skin felt really good, all silky and ripply. Eric started doing lengths, some on the surface, some underwater. I just bobbed around on the top and admired him, which is exactly what he wanted.

After about ten lengths he climbed out of the pool and went to the diving-board. OK, here we go. Macho alpha-male display time. He posed at the very edge of the high board, waiting until he was sure I was watching him (why the hell wouldn't I? With his perfectly sculpted body, he was definitely worth watching!) and then he did a very fancy dive, all twists and somersaults, before straightening out and going into the water like an arrow. Again, he swam underwater until he came up close to me (real handy, not having to breathe, I guess), looking at me expectantly, waiting for my praise. He was like a kid sometimes. I knew what he wanted, and for the life of me I couldn't not give it to him. It would be like kicking a puppy.

I applauded and said, "very impressive, Leif. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Australia." I was surprised, but I don't know why I should have been.

"I didn't know you'd been to Australia, honey."

"There are very few places I haven't been."

"I suppose. Where's your favourite place?"

He smiled. "Right here, with you." Aaaawww. Sweet. He knew what I wanted just as much as I knew what he wanted, but I could tell through the bond that he meant it. I smiled and said, "same here." Then he was off again, doing lengths at vampire speed while I followed more sedately. His white skin really showed up against the deep blue of the pool.

At last we climbed out, showered the chlorine out of our hair and towelled each other down, taking the opportunity for a little gentle making out, before putting our robes on, and heading through the now-empty changing area to another door marked Torrbastu och Våtbastu. We left our clothes behind; Eric said they would be brought to us later.

I was glad he knew where he was going, because this place was like a rabbit-warren. I was lost already, but he went straight through another door that required the keycard, What's this, honey," I asked, as we hung our robes on the wall-pegs.

"This is a bastu," he said. "You would call it a sauna."

He opened the wooden door and Ouff! The heat! It poured out like I'd opened the door to a blast furnace. I recoiled but he gently urged me forward so I took a deep breath and stepped cautiously inside. It was a small wooden room, like a tiny cabin, with broad slatted wooden shelves at three levels, and a big brazier full of what looked like stones in the corner, next to a wooden bucket of water, with a scoop in it.

"Spread your towel and lie on the lowest level, Sookie," said Eric, coming in after me and closing the door. "It is cooler lower down."

"Cooler! You're kidding me, right? It's hotter than Hades in here!"

He looked at me in mild surprise. "Not really, this is the våtbastu, or steam sauna. The temperature is only about 75 degrees. There is also the torrbastu, which is dry heat, but that probably would be too much for you. Now, lie down as I said." I gingerly stretched out on my back resting my head on my hands. Even the wooden slats were hot. I could feel the sweat springing out all over my body as I watched Eric go to the bucket and pour several dippers of water onto the stones in the brazier. They hissed and steam came boiling up from them, filling the air. Through the haze I saw Eric climb to the top shelf and lie full-length. He propped himself up on his elbow and smiled down at me. Naturally, he wasn't sweating because vampires don't, but he clearly enjoyed the heat.

"The bastu has been traditional in Scandinavia for centuries, " he said. "The word comes from bad stuga, or bathing cottage, and was originally a cleansing method. It is very healthy. There is a Finnish saying, "Sauna on köyhän miehen apteekki." " which means "The sauna is the poor man's apothecary." It opens the pores, eliminates toxins from your system and encourages the circulation as well as relaxing you. Can you feel your heart-rate increasing? That is good. When we have been in here for a few minutes, we will take a cold shower."

"What? You're insane! It'd give me a heart-attack on the spot!" He was joking, right?

"Nonsense. Although it is not recommended for those with heart conditions, your heart is perfectly sound and there is no risk whatsoever. The cold shower seals in the heat and is very invigorating. You should be grateful; if we were somewhere more private, I would expect you to swim in the freezing lake instead."

"You can expect all you want, mister, it's not gonna happen." Ah oh. There was that expression again.

"Sookie," his voice held a hint of warning. "You know what happened in the swimming-pool. Do you want me to hold you under the shower? You know I will." Oh hell. He would too.

"Do I have to?" I whined.

"Yes. It is part of the experience." He was implacable. Then he lay on his front, with his arm hanging over the side of the shelf so that I could reach up and hold his hand, and he continued his lecture on the bastu. Apparently although it had started out as a hygiene thing it had developed into a social ritual, with single-sex or mixed-sex sessions. The guys tended to use it for sharing beer and stupid conversations and then making a dash for the cold water together. More Alpha male stuff. Hey ho. No wonder he enjoyed it.

I was beginning to feel really uncomfortable now. It was quite hard to breathe. I don't know how long I'd been in there, and I didn't want to disappoint Eric but I thought it was time to get out. I sat up, feeling the level of heat increase as I did so, and said,

"Eric, I'm sorry, but I don't feel so good. Is it ok if I step outside now?"

He sat up, bringing his long legs down to the middle shelf and said, "Of course, min älskade. It has been about ten minutes since we came in, and that is enough for your first taste. I was about to suggest we left."

"I'm sorry honey. I hope you're not too disappointed?"

He smiled. "Don't worry, Sookie, very few people can tolerate a bastu if they are not born to it. I wanted you to try it though, as it is such an important part of my culture. Even when I was a Viking we used sweat lodges. I hope you will grow to tolerate it better in the future, but it is not essential. Let's go and get our showers."

Yaow! ! That water was so cold that I leaped back from it the instant it hit my skin, but Eric was ready for me, and he caught me and held me under the freezing spray for a good thirty seconds, laughing as I struggled and spluttered, before towelling me down so vigorously my whole body was shaking and then wrapping me in the velvet robe before taking his own shower. He stayed under the icy stream for ages, while I sat and watched him resentfully, expecting icicles to start forming in his hair any minute. He was grinning cheerfully and rubbing his chest and arms briskly. I thought he was probably just showing off again, but I had to admit now that I was out of there I did feel pretty good – kind of glowing. Maybe I'd try it again some time.

Finally, he stepped out from the shower and dried off before putting his robe and neck-chain back on and checking his watch.

"It's been an hour, my lover. I expect Trude and Lars will be waiting for us by now. Come along."

"Where are we going now?"

"We are going to the couple's suite, where we will each have a massage, plus any other treatment you may choose. I told you, Trude is a very skilful masseuse which is why I called her in." He was leading the way out of door and down another corridor.

"Is this gonna be what you call Swedish massage?" I asked, and he smiled in an annoyingly superior way.

"This may be what _you_ call Swedish massage, beloved, but here in Sweden we just call it classic massage. It is a combination of five different techniques, each of which you will enjoy in a different way."

"Isn't massage a bit of a chick thing?" I asked mischievously.

"I am secure enough in my masculinity not to feel threatened by enjoying a massage," he said. "I regard it as a pleasure, which I do not choose to deny myself because of other peoples' small-minded opinions."

"I'll bet it's a pleasure, getting rubbed down by a skilled masseuse. And another thing, how pretty is this Trude? I don't know that I want some other woman running her hands all over you, no matter how 'skilled' she is. That's my territory." He smiled at that, a proper smile.

"Don't worry, dear one, Trude is for you. I shall be making use of Lars, who is also very skilled."

"Oh. That's okay then. You're sure he's not gay? Because the same thing applies!" He knew I was only kidding.

As it turned out, Trude was fairly pretty, but Eric barely glanced at her after thanking her for coming in when she was officially off-duty. She and Lars were waiting for us in what Eric had called the couple's suite. This turned out to be an elegant room with twin everything; twin massage tables, set head to head so we could talk to each other; twin easy chairs and recliners for afterwards, twin headsets if we wanted to listen to music while we relaxed. It was just beyond anything I'd ever experienced.

I was slightly shy of taking my robe off at first, but Eric just tossed his aside and lay on his front on one of the massage tables, and Lars, who was a brawny-looking guy with hairy arms, started opening little bottles of oil and rubbing it on his hands in preparation.

Trude smiled at me encouragingly, and suddenly I felt real stupid and prudish, so I shrugged out of my robe and climbed onto the table, with my head just inches from Eric's. He looked at me approvingly and said, "just relax, min älskade, and let Trude do the work. That's what she is here for. Just tell her what you want and she will take care of it."

"I'm not sure what I want, honey, I've not really done this before."

He looked thoughtful. "That's true. Trude, my wife is not experienced in this. Please help her choose what will be most enjoyable for her."

"Of course." She smiled and turned to me. "Do you have any muscular aches or pains, or any injuries you would like me to work on?"

Once I started answering her questions, it all became a lot easier, and pretty soon I was groaning as her strong fingers swirled and rubbed and smoothed and tapped all my stresses and strains away. Eric and I just looked into each other's eyes as our respective attendants worked on us, taking in the changes in expression or just smiling at each other, happy to be together. Occasionally I laughed as Lars hit a particularly sensitive spot and Eric closed his eyes or grunted with pleasure; I was enjoying his satisfaction nearly as much as he was, and I could feel through the bond that he was happy because I was.

When at last Lars and Trude finished and left, we just lay where we were for a few minutes before getting unsteadily to our feet and moving over to the recliners, where we both lay limp and boneless for a time, holding hands. Somehow, we just felt the need for physical contact.

Eventually I spoke. "Oh man, that was great. I don't think I ever want to move again."

Eric laughed. "You can stay here as long as you like, my angel. I have reserved the suite for the rest of the night. They will be bringing our clothes from the pool in a few moments, and then you can enjoy a different spa treatment, or we can order drinks and food if you wish."

"Do I have to get up to eat?"

"Perhaps you should order grapes and I will drop them into your open mouth one at a time, my lover, in the style of the best Roman orgies," he smiled.

"We could do that." I smiled back.

With a satisfied groan I sat up and ran my hand through my damp hair. There were two vanity units and mirrors side by side against one of the walls, and two hairdryers (of course). I made it to my feet and slowly wandered over and sat on the padded velvet stool. I checked out the little drawers, and they were full of expensive beauty products. Eric said they were all complimentary, so I started hunting for something I liked the look of. I found a conditioning crème and combed it through my hair before reaching for the dryer.

After a while Eric came over and sat next to me, applying some cologne – Ulysse - and drying his own hair which didn't take nearly so long now that it wasn't down past his shoulder-blades. At the memory of why it was so much shorter, I was seized with an urge to reach out and touch him, assuring myself that he was really safe now. I put my hairdryer down and leaned across and hugged him, running my fingers through his still-damp hair. "I love you so much, Eric." This time he didn't rebuke me for using his name. Instead he looked at me and his fangs extended. Then he hauled me across to sit on his lap and his mouth was on mine and his hand was under my robe between my legs and I had both my hands in his hair, and I was squirming and making little noises and then there was a knock on the door. Damn! We pulled apart and I straightened my robe and returned to my own stool before he called, "Enter."

There was an attendant there with our clothes, which had been cleaned and brushed and pressed, and he hung them on the wall for us, and asked us if there was anything he could bring us.

Eric and I looked at each other. Two minds with but a single thought. But it wasn't our minds that were calling the shots right now.

"No thank you, we will be leaving shortly." The attendant withdrew, and we dressed again, carefully not looking at each other, and even more carefully not touching each other. I think we'd have exploded if we had. We left everything in a mess behind us, and headed for the Exit. I was having a hard time keeping up with Eric, because he wasn't hanging around. We went through the reception area so fast I barely had time to smile at the pretty receptionist and then we were in the car park and I was backed up against the side of the car with Eric's hands all over me. I could feel his erection pressed hard against me and his mouth was urgent on mine, and it took quite a lot of willpower to break free and say, "Eric, can we go home?" At first I didn't think he'd heard me because he didn't react, but after a few seconds he said, "get in the car." His voice was ragged. I didn't hang around and the next minute we were screeching up the long drive to the imminent danger of anything coming the other way.

The journey back took even less time than the trip here; Eric drove like a lunatic, with one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh. At least he kept his eyes on the road, but I think that was more to do with keeping himself from pulling over to the side of the road and tearing my clothes off there and then rather than any considerations of safety.

We bumped up the woodland track and then we were both out of the car and in each others' arms again, pressed tightly together as he lifted us over the trees, locked in a fevered kiss. I wanted him so badly. The trip took less than two minutes, I swear, and then we were outside the cabin, and he took my hand and pulled me in through the door and into the bedroom.

This was not like last night; Then we had been making love; this was straight fucking; frenzied, animal lust. He was growling deep in his chest, and I was making the sort of noises you wouldn't normally expect a lady to make as we tore at each others' clothes and fell on the bed together. I had a fleeting thought that I should really have packed more underwear as yet another thong was destroyed and then he was in me and I wasn't thinking any more; I was just feeling. I dug my nails into his back and bit his shoulder hard, tasting the oil that Lars had used on him, and he howled and sank his fangs into my neck and then he was pounding at my body and I was lifting my hips to meet him as he rode me hard, the bond between us going wild with the lust that swirled between us. He was merciless; His hands were under my shoulders, lifting my body and he bit my breasts fiercely, sending shafts of mingled pain and pleasure through me. My passion matched his, rising as we both felt the earthquake drawing near, imminent; then he withdrew briefly, flipped me over and drew my hips up to him as he knelt behind me. He gripped me round the waist with both hands and then he was inside me again, pulling me back against him, plunging like a stallion, talking fast in Swedish. My head was down and my hands were clutching at the bedclothes; if he hadn't held me so firmly I'd have collapsed flat on my belly but he was slamming into me, the front of his thighs slapping against the back of mine, and I was seeing stars and I could hear a voice screaming his name, and then he leaned forward and bit my shoulder savagely, roaring his release as he did so, and then the earthquake hit and we were both shaken to our souls before collapsing together, and we both lay exhausted on the bed, waiting for the tremors to die down.

When my vision cleared he was gently licking at the puncture marks on my neck and shoulder. He was still inside me, but no longer moving. I lay completely still, limp, my arms and legs like jelly, feeling his tongue on my skin. He became aware that I was more or less conscious again, and he rolled off me to the side. I turned my head to look at him, and smiled. His fangs were retracted and his eyes were a soft blue, like the sky had been earlier this evening. They always changed colour in the aftermath of sex. He kissed me softly and said, "did I hurt you, lover?"

"Only in a good way."

"I'm glad. Sometimes I forget how frail you are, and then I worry that I may have been too rough with you. You are so tempting, it's hard to hold back."

"I can take it."

"I am constantly surprised by just how much you can take, Sookie. You are a very special woman."

"And you are a very special man…vampire…whatever."

He laughed. "What shall we do for the rest of the night?"

"I don't care, as long as I'm with you."

"Then I shall get you some food and come back to bed to watch you eat it. You need fattening up, my lover. How much have you eaten today?"

"Uh, I had a Danish and some fruit a bit before sunset, but I was asleep nearly all day."

"Then you definitely need feeding. Wait here." And with that he was gone. I tried to straighten the covers (they'd got a bit mussed up with our recent activities) and then crawled underneath them and lay listening to him moving around in the outer room. I heard the microwave going, and the chink of crockery and glassware, so I guessed he must have some stuff hidden somewhere. I wondered why he needed it, and then decided it must be for the same reason he had the little hut in the woods. I'd have to ask him about that.

He came back into the bedroom balancing two plates on one arm and holding a glass with his free hand. He kicked the door shut and came and sat on the bed, putting the drink on the night-stand and passing me the plates. He'd scrambled some eggs in the microwave and done me a cheese and ham sandwich. The glass was full of chocolate milk, and was really delicious. I could get very used to this O'Boy stuff. He sat and watched me as I ate, occasionally reaching out his hand and touching me, as though to reassure himself that I was really there. I found it really sweet. Bill had always preferred me to eat when he wasn't around – it was as though he didn't like being reminded of all the things he couldn't do any more, but Eric just seemed to accept it.

The sandwich was very good, although I couldn't identify the meat he'd used. I hadn't realised how hungry I was until I started eating, and then my appetite kicked in and I practically inhaled the rest of the food. When I had finished, he took the plates away and then came back and got under the covers with me, sitting up against the headboard and pulling me to snuggle in the curve of his arm. I was more than happy to do that.

He picked up my hand and kissed the palm, again looking at the healthy new tissue. I was so grateful to him for his healing; I'd really needed it.

"My love, we must think of how you are going to explain the fact that your hands are healed when you return to Vegas," he said. "I don't think Felipe will believe that salt-water bathing can effect quite such a miraculous cure as this."

"Oh that's okay, honey, I've already decided what I'm going to do about that. I'm just going to keep wearing gloves until the Sheriff's Ball, and then I'll just say that Pam gave me her blood. No-one'll know any different"

"Ah yes, the Sheriff's Ball. Tell me more about that."

I snuggled even further into his side, and told him as much as I knew, including my difficulty over what to wear.

"Lord Eskham thinks I should go as Diana the Huntress, but I have a feeling she wore really short skirts. I'm not sure I want to put my legs on display in front of all the vamps that are gonna be there."

"Well, if you really want a classical theme, I think you should go as Helen of Troy. I should love to see you dressed as one of the most beautiful women in history."

"Who's Helen of Troy? I mean, I know the name but why was she famous?"

"She was the loveliest woman of her age, and she was stolen from her husband Menelaus and taken to the city of Troy, in ancient Greece. Her husband followed her with his armies and laid siege to the city, demanding her return, and this was the start of the Trojan War."

"Oh, right. I've read about that. The Trojan Horse and the Odyssey and all."

"That is correct. I think you would make a beautiful Helen. She has been much celebrated in literature and art. Have you heard the expression 'the face that launched a thousand ships'? That was written about her by an English playwright called Christopher Marlow in the late sixteenth century."

"Eric, you know so much. Where did you learn all this?"

"I saw Dr Faustus when it was first performed. Kit Marlow was a very gifted man. The full quotation is, 'was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.' here he bent his golden head and kissed my hair. "Perhaps I should say, 'Sweet Sookie, make me immortal with a kiss,"

"You're already immortal," I giggled. "I should be saying, 'sweet Eric, make me immortal with a kiss.'

"You know I would be more than willing to do so, dear one. You have only to ask." His mouth found mine and we began to kiss gently, then it gradually grew into something deeper and we suddenly found we had decided exactly what we were going to do with the rest of the night.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The next night, Eric took me flying.

Not just a short hop to the car, but an extended tour of his territory. Eric had phoned his agent and ordered (yes, that _is_ the word) him to bring some eye protection to the cabin for me so that I could see clearly in spite of the rushing air, and sure enough, there was a number of different types of night-vision goggles waiting on the little table on the verandah when we got up, along with some fresh milk and Danishes. Eric had told me they were called Wienerbröd in Sweden, which seemed weird, because that meant Vienna bread. Eric was very pleased with Hjalmar. He hadn't ordered the food, but this guy seemed to be going out of his way to anticipate everything his boss might want. I tried the goggles on and Eric laughed at me in all of them, so I just settled for the most comfortable pair.

He bullied me into eating a decent breakfast, and then we dressed in warm, dark clothes (lucky my new coat was dark blue) so that we wouldn't be too visible, and went out onto the headland. It was an overcast night, with low cloud hiding the stars and moon. Eric turned to me and smiled, saying, "Come, let me show you my land."

I put the goggles on and everything went green. Eric glowed even more than usual as I climbed up for a piggy-back and wrapped my arms very tightly about his neck as he took off. He rose vertically to just below the cloud cover, and then levelled out, hovering with his body parallel to the ground. I was looking over his shoulder at the forest and our little cabin way down there, the light pouring out of the windows. It was a long way down and I held on real tight.

"Sit up straight, Sookie," he said. Ah oh.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course; don't be scared, my little shield-maiden."

"What's a shield-maiden?"

"A Viking woman who chose to train with weapons, and fight alongside the men. Many of them are mentioned in the folklore of my people, and they were brave and spirited, just like you. You would have fitted in very well." 

"Oh. Okay then." After that compliment, how could I refuse? I cautiously sat back until I was sitting astride his narrow waist, a bit like riding a dolphin, and got a firm grip on his shoulders. A bit too firm, as he told me not to pinch, so I relaxed my hold a tad and then he began to drift forward, slowly. He could sense my nervousness through the bond, although I tried real hard to be a brave shield-maiden.

Eric called back over his shoulder. "All this land belongs to me, as far north as you can see from here and as far as you can see inland."

I turned my head to the right and saw dark forests rolling and undulating to the horizon. There were occasional patches of light, but for the most part it was completely dark. Eric didn't encourage people to settle on his land. There were hardly any signs of civilization and I commented on this and he said,

"the forest itself is a sign of civilization. This is all man-made." He continued, "when I was young most of this area was barren. There were no forests like this; it was a hard struggle to wring a living out of the earth, which is why so many young men went a-Viking. We raided for food as much as for wealth; our own land did not produce enough to sustain us, and as we travelled to other lands we saw how much softer and more hospitable the south was, and gradually we began to move to warmer areas, where the fishing was better and we could grow enough food for our families." He pointed down and to his right, to a small bay where the land rose in a gentle slope away from the sea. "That is where I lived as a child, just ten minutes' walk from my present home."

"Take me down there," I said. "I want to see."

"There is nothing there to see now, Sookie. My village vanished centuries ago."

"Would it be painful to go back?"

"No, not painful. It makes me remember. There was a time when I could not come here, but that was long ago. Everything is changed, but if you would like to see it, then you shall," and he turned and began to drift downwards towards the beach. Near the ground he told me to lean forward again and hold on tight, and he came back to the vertical just as we landed so that I slid from him onto the ground quite safely.

I looked around me. He was quite right. There was nothing there to tell you that anyone had once lived here. He moved a few paces off, standing looking out to sea, and I went to join him, taking his hand. We stood in silence for a few minutes. I could feel through the bond that a strong memory had hold of him, and I didn't want to break his mood.

At last he said, quietly, almost to himself, "The whale-road does not change."

"What's the whale-road?"

He gestured. "The sea. We had a lot of names for it. The sail-road, the swan-road, the gannet's bath. Rudyard Kipling called it 'The old grey widow-maker'. He was not far from the truth. So many of us lost our lives and never came home to our families. I never came home to my family, but it was not the sea that killed me." Again he was silent, lost in his memories.

To lighten his mood, I said, "The swan-road. That's a nice image. Your language sounds really poetic."

He looked down at me. "It is. The swan-road is a kenning – a word picture to describe something. My people's poetry and literature are full of these descriptive terms, many very vivid. There was the 'sleep of the sword' which means death, and 'wave-steed' which is a ship. The sun was the sky's jewel and a sword could be an icicle of blood. Battle was 'spear-din' and a warrior was a feeder of ravens."

"Wow. Real…picturesque." Trust Eric to focus on the more violent examples.

At last he shook himself and released my hand, turning inland, climbing the slope at the back of the beach. I scrambled after him, but his long legs kept him well ahead of me until I reached the top and found him there, standing looking round. He pointed, saying, "that is where my homestead was. All this area behind was fields, which were worked by the thralls, and down there on the beach were the long-boats. We couldn't go raiding in the winter months, the sea was too rough, so we used to haul the boats well up the beach out of the reach of the waves, and repair them over the winter. I used to fish from those rocks."

He wandered about a little, and although he didn't say anything I could tell he was not real happy, so I suggested we move on, and we took to the air again. This time, instead of going piggy-back, he carried me Gone With The Wind-style, which was a lot less scary. Also, I could see his face if I looked up, which I liked.

We flew north for a while until we could see mountains ahead of us. The coastline was beautiful; really rugged, with a lot of small inlets and hundreds of islands, all surrounded by white foam where the waves crashed into them. Eric told me the mountains were near the border with Norway, and were a wonderful place to see the Northern Lights from, but it was the wrong time of year for that. We turned inland and flew over silver lakes and black forests, and then back to the coast. It was obvious Eric loved the sea and would rather stay near it. He started to get a bit frisky, and indulged in one or two little stunts. He swooped real low over the water, at one point almost letting my boots trail in the spray, laughing as I squealed and clung to him. I kind of think that's why he did it; just so as I'd hold him tight. "Don't worry, Sookie, I will not let Aegir's daughters have you," he said.

"What?"

"Aegir is the god of the sea, and he has nine daughters who are the personification of the waves. But they shall go hungry tonight." Then he soared up until we went into the clouds. That was cold and damp – I could feel the moisture on my face, and my goggles misted up. Visibility was down to zero and it was quite scary, but then we burst through the clouds and into a different world.

The moon was full tonight, and the stars were brilliant. The air was clear and cold, and I pushed the goggles up because I could see perfectly up here. We flew above the cotton candy clouds, which looked solid enough to step on, and Eric pointed out some constellations on the horizon which I'd never seen before – we were further north than I had ever been. We flew on and on until at last I began to shiver and he immediately turned south, descended through the cold vapour of the clouds and headed back to the little cabin I was now thinking of as home. The lights were glowing a welcome, and I wondered if that's why he left them on – so he wouldn't come home to a dark, cold cabin.

We went indoors and I closed up the shutters while Eric got the fire going and then we lay on the rug in front of it, Eric's head in my lap while I stroked his hair and we talked. Well, he talked and I listened. He was in a very reminiscent mood, and he told me stories from the Eddur, which he said were the poems and tales of his people, all about gods and heroes. Gradually his voice slowed. The pauses between his words grew longer until complete silence fell, and then our eyes met and I moved to lie next to him and we very slowly undressed each other. No shredding of garments tonight.; just gentle hands exploring and caressing each other.

His white skin was the colour of flame as the firelight flickered across his beautiful body, the shadows defining his muscles. I ran my hands down his chest, loving the firm feel of it. He lay on his back, bringing me to lie on top of him, and we both drank, strengthening our bond one more time, and then we made love. Tonight there was a kind of urgency about it; I clung to him as if I was drowning. We both knew I only had a few more hours before my flight back to Mexico, and I grasped him almost feverishly; it was as if I wanted to take as much of him away with me as I could. He soothed me, his hands strong and gentle on my body, and then he used all his skill to bring me to climax over and over again, each time reaching a higher pitch than the last. Finally, when I was gasping and crying in his arms he achieved his own release, yelling, "Du är min," as he filled me, shuddering violently as he held me to him as though he could not bear to let me go. He had never been so loving, and I had never loved him so much.

We lay silently together, knowing that our time had run out. We rose to our feet wordlessly and began our preparations. For the last time I showered and changed and packed my rucksack, and for the last time he held me to him as he lifted us over the trees. We didn't speak much in the car on the drive back to Göteborg. My head was on his shoulder as he drove, and again his big white hand rested on my thigh and I covered it with both my small ones, now healed, thanks to him.

With Eric at the wheel the trip didn't take nearly as long as when I came north by myself. I wished that the drive could go on and on forever, through the dark, just being close to each other, never arriving. My thoughts were still in the cabin where I'd been so happy. I smiled reminiscently to myself when I thought of some the things we had got up to over the last three nights, and then I smiled a different sort of smile as I remembered what I had got up to today, while he was asleep. Another advantage of a vampire boyfriend – they haven't a clue what you do during daylight hours. I had used my daylight hours today to prepare a little surprise for him, which I hoped he would like, but I wasn't sure when I was going to tell him. The time and the mood didn't seem quite right, somehow. It could wait.

At last the lights of the city showed ahead, and he pulled the car to the side of the road and switched off the engine. He didn't look at me; he didn't plead or beg or try to emotionally blackmail me. He just looked straight ahead through the windshield, his profile like marble in the lamplight.

"Stay, Sookie," he said. Just that. He didn't want to make it hard for me, but those two simple words, and the longing behind them, tore me apart.

I couldn't look at him any more. I bowed my head, trying to find the courage to resist him. Why did it have to be so hard? If only I could think of just me, for once. But there were too many other people involved; our fate was tied to theirs. Besides, it was only in America that I had a hope of finding a way to clear him. If I stayed, we would be hunted and sooner or later they would find us. I gathered my resolution, told myself that if I could wrench myself away this once, then there would be a time in the future when we could be together again. There had to be. I had to hold on to that. I had to.

"I can't, Eric."

Not a muscle moved in his face. He started the engine again, and we drove on in silence.

But the bond between us said it all.

When we reached the airport, we left the car at the hire-company's depot and then he escorted me to the departure lounge. We sat waiting for my flight to be called, and I suddenly remembered I didn't have a single photograph of him. I asked him if I could take his picture with my cellphone and he smiled and said of course, provided I kept it in the securely encrypted part of the phone. No problem there. I dug it out of my bag and turned it on. It had been switched off ever since I arrived at the hotel in Göteborg. Those three magical, stolen nights in a little log cabin overlooking the North Sea had somehow been outside reality, outside time, and I hadn't wanted anything to intrude on us, but now I was coming back to the real world.

He showed me how to use the camera on the phone and then sat back, smiling and preening very slightly for the shot. I took several, and then asked if we could have one of us both. He said no at first, saying it would be too risky, but in the end gave in providing he could take one with his phone too. For the first time, it occurred to me to ask him for his new cell number, and he gave it to me, but made me swear to delete it as soon as we reached Mexico. He explained that if it was stolen, then a text or call to or from him could potentially be fatal. I saw his point, and promised. Then I sat on his lap and cuddled as close to him as I could get, and he took pictures of us kissing, two with each phone. His long arms made it quite easy to get the distance, but the trouble was, he got so distracted by the kiss that he ended up photographing the airport ceiling, which made me giggle. He quickly took two more shots, so that at least we had some pictures of us smiling. We were comparing the pictures when my phone beeped twice. Message Received. I worked my way through the menus, and saw it was a text from Mr Cataliades. It simply said

**Success. Examining files now.**

"Eric! They've got into the file! Paul's got through the security! Yes! ! ! Oh honey, that's great. Maybe by the time I land, they'll have found something!"

"Really? That is very encouraging news." He didn't seem as excited as I was, but I clung to the hope for all I was worth. It was the one bright spot in a pretty dismal picture right now. It gave me a reason to go back; something to look forward to. I just prayed Mr C could find something. If anybody could, it would be him.

Eric said, "I know you have to turn your phone off when you board, but as soon as you are permitted, turn it back on again so that I can text you. There is no danger of discovery until you are back in America."

That sounded a good idea. It would make the journey go more quickly.

Then my flight was called and we stood up to go to the plane. Eric came nearly all the way with me. He shouldn't have, but he simply glamoured his way through until we were standing at the end of the short corridor leading onto the plane. Other passengers were pushing past us, eager to reach their destination, but I could only think about what I was leaving behind.

So this was it. The end of an idyll. I put my arms round him under his jacket, feeling the muscles in his back through his shirt, pressing him to me, and he put his finger under my chin and tilted my face up so he could look into my eyes. He was smiling a little. I wasn't.

"Be brave, my little shield-maiden," he said. "I don't want you to ruin yet another jacket of mine. I can't afford the dry-cleaning bills."

I gave a tiny choke of laughter. "That's better," he said and bent and kissed me softly.

"And now, you must go."

I began to protest, but he said, "please, Sookie. If you do not go now, my resolution may fail me, and I will break my promise to let you leave." I could feel his pain through the bond, as I knew he could feel mine. He was being strong for my sake. I know I should have been able to do the same, but I just couldn't. Scary Sookie might exist in Las Vegas, but here there was only wretched Sookie. I clung to him, like a little kid on her first day of school, not wanting to leave her daddy, and he had to practically peel me off. I know it wasn't dignified, but what the hell, nobody I cared about was watching.

The last call for boarding came over the tannoy. He held my hands, looking into my eyes.

"Goodbye, Eric. I love you." I was starting to choke up.

"Goodbye, my little love. I _will _see you again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

A last squeeze of my hands, and then he turned and walked away. I watched his tall broad figure striding through the crowds, which as usual parted for him like the Red Sea for Moses, and then I handed my boarding pass to the smiling stewardess and made my way blindly onto the plane.

I didn't pay a great deal of attention to the pre-flight briefing; the stewardess was blurred anyway. Eventually the plane taxied slowly out onto the runway and I settled back in my seat, fighting the tears. I didn't know why I bothered; no-one was looking. There didn't seem to be too many people on board – early morning flight not that popular, I guess - so I got a window seat. I pulled down the little plastic blind as I didn't want to see the lights of Sweden disappearing. I was leaving too much behind. My time with him had been sweet, but I wanted so much _more. _I wanted him home again. I wanted him in my arms. I wanted him with every fiber of my being. I was more determined than ever to fight for him.

I gripped the armrests as the plane accelerated down the runway (I hated this bit) and then it lifted into the night sky and began to make a huge slow circle over the city below before heading west. Once take-off was over I relaxed a little, turned my phone back on and concentrated on the bond, sending Eric all the love I had. We had exchanged so much blood over the last three nights that our bond was pretty strong right now. I hoped it would last, but I knew it would fade with distance and time. I reached out to him, and immediately I got love, but…that was weird…I was also getting laughter. _Laughter?_ WTF? What could possibly be funny about this situation? It seemed to be getting stronger. Then my cell beeped its Message Waiting signal. I opened it up.

**Look out of the window**

I flipped back the blind and then gasped with shock. Guess who was just the other side of the little Perspex window, smirking at me? The son-of-a-bitch had hitched a ride on the outside of the plane and was just hovering there, gripping the frame with one hand to prevent himself being blown away, the wind whipping his hair across his face. Of course the cold and the lack of air was no problem to Supervamp.

"Jesus, Eric!" I suddenly lowered my voice as I realised I'd practically yelled his name out for the whole plane to hear. His grin widened as he saw the shocked expression on my face. I'm betting that's exactly what he'd been aiming for. The mischief was just pouring down the bond and I had to laugh. I shook my fist at him, mock-angry. He winked at me, then his grin disappeared and he placed his free hand flat against the window. I put mine against it. We stayed like that for a few seconds, just looking into each other's eyes, and then he moved his hand and kissed his fingers to me, mouthing the familiar words "min lilla fru," as he smiled. I blew him a kiss, and smiled back, and then with another wink he turned away and was gone. I flattened my face against the Perspex, shading my eyes against the reflection from the cabin lights, and I just caught a glimpse of a dark figure silhouetted against the lights of Göteborg below us, arms outstretched, riding the air-currents as he headed back to his cabin on the lonely little headland looking out to sea.

Well, that was unexpected. As I sat back in my seat I realised that I felt a bit better for that crazy, light-hearted moment. That man was _such_ a risk-taker. I knew he'd done it just to cheer me up and it had worked, but next time I saw him I'd nail his ass for that insane little stunt. Hmm. Nail his ass. That was a good point. Now might be the perfect time to let him in on the little surprise I'd arranged. I grabbed my cell and texted his number.

**When you get home check your butt in the mirror**

Then I sat back and smiled to myself, feeling his curiosity through the bond. I had spent a lot of the day combing Udevalla for what I needed, and at last I had found a small art supplies shop which had just the thing.

I had hurried back to the cabin and found Eric sleeping just as I had left him, with several hours of daylight still to go. Just what I needed. Vamps were so vulnerable in the daytime, and I was about to take full advantage of that fact.

I stripped the bedclothes back and then rolled him onto his front (no easy job, he weighed a ton!). Yum. His perfect butt was tempting enough for me to plant a kiss on each firm cheek before I got to work. It took a while to get it just right, but after about an hour there was a neat little temp tattoo on the curve of his delectable ass. In a nice Gothic script it said quite simply, **Sookie's**. That would pay him back for all the "Mine" crap he liked to dish out. See how he liked it.

It was waterproof, so it wouldn't come off in the shower and would last for about a week. I had been really tempted to get him a permanent one, but I didn't know how he'd react, and also I didn't know if you _could_ tattoo a vampire. Chow, the late barkeeper in Fangtasia had been covered in them, but I didn't know if he'd had them done when he was mortal. So the temporary tatt was just the thing. I knew he wouldn't spot it when he showered, as the only mirror in the bathroom was quite high up above the washbasin. He'd have to levitate to see it. I hoped he'd appreciate it.

He did. I monitored the bond very carefully and about an hour later I got a burst of shock followed by a huge surge of amusement. Then a text came through.

**I love it and I love you.**

I quickly texted back,

**Your ass is mine, mister.**

**Always and for ever. I shall have this made permanent.**

Oh. So you could tattoo a vampire. Good. The next time he had a massage, little Trude wouldn't get any inappropriate ideas.

I settled back into my seat as the plane roared over Norway and then the sea, heading for Mexico. I felt better. He was mine and he didn't care who knew it.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The royal residence rivalled Vegas itself for glamour and glitz for the Sheriff's Ball tonight. Every tree in the grounds was hung with lanterns, the building itself was strung with fairy-lights from end to end and there were great big searchlights stabbing into the night sky over the desert. Felipe sure wanted everyone to know that something was going on here tonight. In a few hours' time a whole load of limos would be arriving as the distinguished guests from the nearby city would make their appearance. Most of the vampires who were coming from any distance had arrived the night before, or during the day in travel-coffins and they'd all been installed in luxurious quarters on the fifth floor. I had had no idea there was so much space in the hospitality wing, but I suppose if you were underground there was no limit as to how far out you could spread. I was sure it was well beyond the boundaries of the compound itself.

I was out at my favourite little pool, taking a break for a few minutes with a lemon popsicle. The last ten days had been pretty hectic, and I was glad that tonight would see it all over. I meant the ball, of course, but I was hoping to see progress on the whole Eric thing as well.

When I'd arrived back in Cancun, I'd been really surprised to see Pam waiting for me at the airport. She looked different; she'd styled her hair differently and was wearing one of _my_ sundresses, with a pair of white gloves. I couldn't figure it out; I'd expected Matt, or possibly Mr C. Then it dawned on me; the lawyer was going to be busy examining those case-notes. I sure hoped he'd found something, but where was Matt?

I'd hugged Pam, and the first thing she did was inhale, deeply and luxuriously.

"You smell of him, Sookie. Did you leave him well? I have been feeling better emotions through the bond the last few days."

"Yeah, he's doing ok. We renewed our blood-bond. How about you, Pam, how come you're here? I thought you were back in Shreveport turning the screws on Victor. And where's Matt?"

She turned and walked away towards the lockers, and I hurried to stay alongside, carrying my bags (she didn't offer to help). "Ah. We ran into a small problem, which we had stupidly failed to anticipate. I blame myself for this."

Ah oh. I didn't like the sound of that.

"What sort of problem?"

"The full moon. The timing of this could not have been worse, as it meant the Were could not be available to us after dark. He made contact with the local Cancun pack, and has been off hunting the local wildlife through the swamps with them for the last two nights." Her voice was laden with contempt. "Although he was here during the day, we had to have someone making the place look inhabited at night, so it was decided that I would stay and impersonate you. We are both blond, and as long as no-one got a close look we felt we could succeed."

"Oh, wow, of course! I'd completely forgotten the full moon! Damn! Well, thanks for staying, Pam, I hope it didn't mess up your schedule too much."

"It was quite pleasant in some ways. The casita is very luxurious and I enjoyed the pool, although I do not share your taste in clothes." She looked at the sundress with some distaste. I couldn't see what was wrong with it. It was white with a yellow floral print. I thought it looked pretty, but there was no accounting for taste. The gloves reminded me about the whole hand thing, and I quickly filled her in on her supposed role in their healing. She approved of the plan, and agreed to back up my story that she had healed me if anyone enquired, after the Sheriff's Ball. Until then, of course, I would keep the gloves on at all times when not in my suite. I was so thankful for Niall's privacy charm. It was going to make a world of difference.

We reached the lockers and I handed her the little keys. She removed the few items I had left in them, swiftly transferred whatever I needed from my Sweden luggage into the beach bag I had brought to the airport three days ago, and stuffed everything else into the two carry-on bags. Not that there was too much left; Eric had destroyed nearly all my clothes, one way or another. Not that I was complaining, you understand. "I will return the SatNav to the lawyer and dispose of everything else," she said. "I shall not be coming back to the hotel with you. Now that I have heard that all is well with Eric I shall return to Shreveport as soon as I can. There is much there that awaits my attention. Now, we will go to the restroom and change our garments. It will not do for you to be seen going out in one dress and coming back in another. I have my own clothes with me."

Bless her, she was so efficient. I could see why Eric trusted her as his second-in-command. She had a real eye for detail. Quickly we did as she suggested, once we had checked that the rest-room was empty of other travellers, and while we got changed I told her as much as I was comfortable with her knowing about the last three days. She laughed at the plane stunt. I didn't mention the tattoo.

Finally, I was back in Cancun mode, and Pam was back in her favourite pastels. "Here is the hotel key, and enough money for a taxi to take you there," she said. "When you arrive, go into the reception and establish your presence. I have only allowed myself to be seen from a distance, on the roof or a back view from the balcony, so no-one has heard my voice or seen me in detail."

"When will I see you again, Pam?" I asked, kind of forlornly. It had been real nice, seeing a familiar face, even if only briefly. I wasn't looking forward to going back to Vegas, but at least I still had a couple of days holiday.

"I will see you at the Sheriff's ball."

"Of course, sorry. I nearly forgot."

"Well don't forget to wear your gloves. If anyone sees your hands and suspects, we are done for. I will contact Ludwig and make sure she is aware of the situation, so that she does not put you in an embarrassing position. In fact," she added thoughtfully, "it may be a good idea for her to let it be known that she has persuaded you to allow me to heal you. That way we will ward off any well-intentioned offers from other vampires. I shall arrive a day early, and I can pretend to give you my blood then, so that your hands will be 'recovered' by the night of the ball."

"Thanks, that's a really good idea. I wasn't looking forward to the idea of wearing my costume with gloves. I don't think the ancient Greeks wore them. What are you going as?"

"You must wait and find out, and you should not tell me what you are going to wear. It is traditional for costumes to be revealed on the night of the ball only."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me that; I'd probably have put my foot in it a few times if you hadn't."

"And now, do you have everything? My flight will be leaving shortly."

"Yes. 'Bye, Pam. And thanks for everything."

I didn't hug her, but to my surprise, she had stepped forward and hugged me. Very un-vamp-like, but Pam was quite an unusual vampire in some respects. She had a sense of humour, for one thing.

"Goodbye, Sookie, and do not despair. Things are starting to move, and one way or another I am sure it will not be long before we are welcoming the master home. And incidentally, make sure you spend a lot of time in the water, to remove the master's scent from you. It is quite overpowering at the moment." Thanks, Pam.

"OK. Have a safe trip, and see you in ten days."

Then she had left and I had headed for the taxi-rank. I'd spent way too much time saying goodbye in airports recently.

I spent the next couple of day making sure people saw me in the reception areas and on the beaches, spending every minute I possibly could in the sun, acquiring the "skin coloration" that Pam had spoken of. That's a suntan to you and me. Fortunately, it hadn't taken long; the temperature was way up and I started to go brown within hours of hitting the beach.

Matt had been out when I'd arrived, as I expected, but by the time I got up next morning he was up and moving around. He smiled when he saw me and said, "Hey, Sookie." He looked really good; he'd shed the uniform (and the stuffy attitude that went with it) and was wearing swim-shorts and a loose brightly coloured shirt. He also had a real nice tan. He had a pretty good physique, too, which I was surprised at when he told me that, as part of the camouflage, he'd been forced to order and consume enough food for two people every day. Poor sweet baby. I could tell that had been a real sacrifice for him. I kept my sarcasm to myself, and gave him a (heavily edited) rundown on my time in Sweden, then I was outside and on the sunlounger.

I got him to take some photographs of me with my phone camera (I'd remembered to erase Eric's number, though it had cost me a pang to do it). I changed into a variety of bikinis and put my hair up or down, so that it looked like the shots were done on different days. He made sure the pictures were a little bit over-exposed, so that the issue of my current lack of tan wasn't a problem. The gloves looked and felt a bit strange, but it was absolutely necessary. For the photographs in the pool, I made sure my hands were behind my back or under the water, so they were not visible. I had to be careful not to get a tan on them, because vamps spotted things like that. I had decided that for the night of the ball I would get some fake tan so that it didn't look ridiculous. I had definitely decided to go as Helen of Troy, if I could find a decent costume in the time available.

By the time we had to go back to Vegas, I was feeling a whole lot better physically. In spite of all the flying, I had spent time with my honey (I looked at his photograph every day, and slept with the phone under my pillow at night), I'd eaten well, I'd relaxed and swum and sunbathed and, although I hadn't heard anything from Mr Cataliades I knew he was on the case, so in the main I felt pretty positive. I still kept my daily appointment with Eric, but now I _knew_ he was thinking of me. I hadn't realised how scared I had become that would forget me, but that was no longer a worry; Now I knew he'd be faithful to me for the rest of my life. However long that might be. Hmmm. That was something that needed thinking about, once he was back home safe.

Matt assured me that the Eric smell was completely gone by now, and so as I headed for the airport just about the only fly in my ointment was Matt himself. He'd gone back to the uniform on the morning of our last day, and he'd also gone back to calling me ma'am. That was so not cool, but he was completely pig-headed about it, saying it was not professional to call me Sookie, and he had his job to do, so I didn't push it. He'd been a real pal for the last week, and I was grateful. I let him know that, and he kind of grumped, but when I hugged him he hugged me back. Briefly. This man was all about Adelaide.

It was just as well I'd had a rest, because it was straight into work mode when I got back. Lucky it was daylight, so I had time to settle in and unpack before the vamps were up and about.

The king was very pleased to see me back, and one or two of the courtiers nodded distantly, which was the vamp equivalent of leaping up and down and clapping their hands with glee.

There was a huge backlog of work piled up, mostly relating to the upcoming ball, as the king expected me to deal with all the human contractors involved, and although the vamps made the decisions, I had to check that everything was above board. I'd also started to sit in on the interviews for new human staff, to weed out any potential bad apples. That was quite interesting, really, but it did take a lot of time, so there really wasn't any time for sitting around moping about Eric.

I'd received another message from Mr C, telling me he was pursuing the witnesses at Eric's trial, but I had heard nothing since. He was due here a bit later this evening, and had promised me a full report on everything he'd discovered.

Pam had arrived the previous night, and had asked me right away if she could have my spare invite for her latest bed-mate, a charming (so she said) French vampire called Martin Chéron. I was really surprised that she'd found the time to take up with anyone new, what with everything that was going on, but this was Pam. Apparently she'd known him for a very long time, but hadn't seen him in about a century until he turned up in Louisiana about a month ago. She'd been 'dating' him since then, so he must at least have considerable stamina. Her libido knew no bounds, but then again, he _was_ French, so maybe he was a match for her. Anyway, he'd had a break while she was in Cancun being me.

I'd agreed, and handed in his name to the ticket office, but then I'd received a real disappointment. Amelia had left a message to say she wouldn't be able to make it after all. I phoned her right away, and she'd said her mentor Octavia needed her help with some lecture or other that she was giving, and it was such an honour to be asked to be part of the demonstration that she couldn't turn it down. I was real sad, but I couldn't deny her the opportunity. She'd tried to hide it, but her excitement had come down the phone loud and clear, so all I could do was be gracious and tell her to go have a good time.

That was a real bummer, but at least Bill, Mr C and Lord Eskham (I was still having a hard time thinking of him as plain old Edward) were due in tonight. I hadn't seen Bill in a coon's age, and I really wanted to thank him in person for his help with the file.

I'd gone back to Pam and given her the all-clear for Martin (she pronounced it the French way, Mar-tahn), and she said he'd arrive tonight, as he was having difficulty finding a costume at short notice.

I was a bit disappointed with my own costume. I'd found a picture of Helen of Troy in one of the smaller salons downstairs, and had ordered a vaguely similar-looking dress over the internet, but when it came it wasn't a rousing success. It was poor quality, and it didn't hang really nicely. It wasn't a very good fit, as the girdle that went with it was sewn in place and wouldn't pull tight enough and left it kind of baggy, but it was too late to do anything about it now. It would have to do.

I finished my popsicle and checked my watch, registering with pleasure the fact that I didn't need to wear the gloves any more. Pam had 'healed' me last night, and I got rid of them this morning. It was such a relief, and I had already applied the fake tan, so that it blended in with my real tan. It still had a very faint scent, but it should be pretty much gone by this evening. I stayed where I was a little longer. It was almost sunset, and I knew Eric would be thinking of me, so I waited until the sun touched the horizon and then sent him all my love, hoping he would know it, even if he didn't feel it, and then I got up from my seat with a sigh. Time to go and do final checks in the ball-room. Everything should be pretty much ready by now.

As I passed through reception, Tiffany called me over. I'd gotten to know her quite well in the last week, and although she wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier she was very pleasant, and very keen to do things right.

"Excuse me, Mrs Northman, your costume has arrived."

"Pardon me?" I thought I must have misheard.

"Your costume for tonight – it's just been delivered." She reached behind the desk and pulled out a long box.

"There must be some mistake – I already have my costume." I was puzzled.

"Well, this has definitely got your name on it, ma'am – look. And it's come all the way from Europe too. It's lucky it arrived in time, isn't it?"

Europe. Ah. I glanced at the shipping label. It had definitely been posted in Austria and it had the name of a famous Paris couturier on the box. I wonder who could possibly have arranged that? I said, "Oh, of course, I know what this is. It's for one of my guests. Thanks Tiffany," and I took the box and hurried to the lift. The ball-room could wait.

I went down to the fifth floor and as I came out of the lift the security teams were starting to assemble. After the recent FOTS outrage, there were Weres and human security staff everywhere (Weres couldn't handle silver either). There was a team on each lift and another one at the exit from the hospitality suite. Nobody would get onto the fifth floor without being searched by one or other of the teams. I said hi to the guys – I knew pretty much all of the Weres, at least (the humans were mostly outside contractors but I'd vetted them carefully) – but they were all in very serious mode, and only a couple nodded back.

I reached the door to my suite and hurried inside, barely waiting to close the door before tearing the paper off the package and riffling through the silver tissue paper lining to see what was underneath.

Something white and silky. I lifted it out, and gasped when I saw it. This wasn't a hire costume – this was a designer dress. I hurried into my bedroom, stripped off and slipped it on. It flowed over my body like silk – hell, it was silk! heavy, luxurious silk, and it was the softest, loveliest dress I had ever seen in my life. It was full length, falling in graceful folds to my feet. The bodice was softly gathered and tied with a golden cord just below the bust, and it was fastened on each shoulder with a gold clasp. The back was gently scooped and delicate draperies flowed from the shoulders. It was sleeveless and an absolutely perfect fit. My eyes filled with tears, and I hastily mopped them, as (though I'd never owned any) I knew that silk marked very easily.

I rooted in the box for a card or message, but couldn't find one. That didn't matter – I knew who it was from. What I did find was a dainty pair of golden strappy sandals (again a perfect fit) a gold purse on a chain, and two small boxes, pale blue with a white ribbon. My heart thumped. Even I knew what that colour scheme meant.

I opened them and there was a diamond necklace and drop ear-rings, each a perfect match for the bracelet that I wore day and night. I tried them on and looked at myself in the mirror. My lip quivered as I took in the vision he'd created. He'd done it again. He had said he wanted me to be Helen of Troy and he had done his very best to make that happen. My heart swelled, and I sent him all the love and happiness I could. Then I took it all off carefully and hung the dress up. I would steam it very gently before I put it on again, just to get the creases out, and suddenly I was looking forward to the ball a whole lot more.

I got dressed again and went along to the ball-room to do final checks. I'd not seen this room used before; it was kept for very special state occasions. It looked spectacular; the ceiling had been tented in with gold and black and the walls were draped in the same colour scheme. There were two stages – a high one at one end for the band and a lower one with two steps leading up to it for Felipe's throne. The caterers were just finishing setting up the TrueBlood fountains (they'd all been checked very carefully) and on the far side of the room were white draped tables with the human food. There were a lot of tables around the huge dance-floor, and some gilt chairs as a concession to the human guests, but not many. There was still this stupid no-sitting-in-the-presence-of-the-king thing for the vampires, but they didn't appear to mind. It was traditional, and vamps are real big on tradition. There were a lot of doors along one wall, leading into small private rooms for those guests who preferred to sample the live menu. There would be several score willing human donors present, each wearing a red ribbon to indicate their blood-type. Ick. I had checked them all out earlier in the day, and there was the usual mixture of sad fantasists and emotionally desperate types, all hoping to attract the attention of a vampire. Well, I was hardly in a position to judge, but at least there was only one vampire whose attention I was interested in.

My pager sounded, and when I checked I found I was wanted in reception. I headed up there, and found a message waiting for me. Oh hell. Another disappointment. Lord Edward had phoned to say that his flight from Wisconsin had been delayed, but that he would be arriving as soon as he could, and he still hoped to have the honour of dancing with me. That was a real downer. It meant only Pam, Bill and Mr Cataliades would be here from my original guest-list at the start of the evening, I just hoped Edward showed. I hadn't met this Martin dude yet, but Pam had assured me he was very charming.

Speaking of Pam, I checked my watch. I had arranged to meet her and the others in my suite at ten o'clock for a council of war. I didn't know if he'd arrived yet, but Martin would just have to do without her for a while – I don't care how charming he was, I wasn't going to trust him with this information.

I went back down in the lift, and this time when I stepped out on the fifth level, the security team was ready. Two of the Weres and one human stepped forward and patted me down carefully, asking me to turn out my pockets and slip off my jacket and shoes.

I laughed and joked with them as they did so. "C'mon you guys, you know me. Do I look as though I've got two feet of sharpened oak in my brassiere?"

They were deadly serious. "Sorry ma'am, everyone is to be searched, no exceptions." This was from Banjo, the blue-grass loving Were.

"Anyway, it doesn't have to be two feet – four inches in the right place is enough." That was one of the humans, an outside contractor who I had seen before. I hadn't liked the tone of his mind when I'd interviewed him earlier and now I liked it even less, so I raised my eyebrows suggestively at him, and said, "Your wife tell you that, did she?" He blushed furiously as the other guys laughed, and he tried to cover his confusion by saying, "she's clean," before stepping back. "Apart from her mind," chuckled one of the Weres and that set them all off again. I grinned and put my shoes back on, slinging my jacket over my shoulder and heading off towards my suite.

Once inside I showered and carefully steamed my beautiful dress before putting on my make-up and doing my hair. I wore it up, with a few little tendrils escaping in front of my ears and onto my forehead. Then I slipped the shoes and dress on, doing up the girdle and adding the necklace and earrings. I had a look in the mirror and made a few minor adjustments before deciding that I looked about as good as I was going to. My new tan looked fabulous against the white silk, and the jewellery sparkled brilliantly. I admired myself for a few minutes and then there was a knock at the door. I opened it and there was Mr Cataliades, dressed as an old English guy, complete with a wig. He looked at me very admiringly and came in and took a seat. He said he was dressed as Samuel Pepys, a famous English diarist from the time of Charles the Second. He had a briefcase with him, but wouldn't say anything until the others arrived.

Fortunately for my blood pressure, that was within a very few minutes. Pam looked stunning in a cream and silver gown as Marie Antoinette and Bill was very dignified as George Washington. Pam nodded her approval of my gown, but Bill's jaw practically hit the floor, which was kind of gratifying. Our past history was a bit complicated, as he had dumped me for an old vampire flame, and then had come back and then I'd dumped him and it had taken a long time for us to get to a point where we were just friends, but I think a spark still lingered. I could never love anyone but Eric, but Bill was kind of a special friend. Eric hated it. It really griped his butt that Bill had been my first boyfriend, my first vampire and my first lover, and he would cheerfully have killed Bill had he not known that it would have really upset me. Still, I didn't really mind showing Bill what he'd lost. Mean of me, I know, but I never said I was mature.

"Sookie, you look stunning." His cool dark voice still got to me just a little. It stirred so many memories, not all of them bad. However, now was not the time for a trip down memory lane, so I just thanked him and invited them both in. They all sat around on my couch and chairs and I stayed standing (I didn't want to crush my silk dress).

"Well?" I could hardly breathe for excitement. Was this it? Was this the moment we found out whether Eric could come home? All eyes went to Mr C, who looked very solemn.

"Mrs Northman, Mr Compton, Miss Ravenscroft. I have been very carefully over the documentation that you provided me with, and I am sorry to say that I have been unsuccessful."

What? I couldn't believe it! No no no no no! After all that work! I had been so sure there must be something in there. There must be!

"Are you sure?" I pleaded. "What about the witnesses? Surely they must have been glamoured, we know they were lying. Can't you threaten them with something? Anything?"

He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, when I traced the witnesses, which is what has taken most of the last ten days, I found that every single one of them has met with an unfortunate accident." He looked at our faces, mine shocked, Bill and Pam's resigned. They weren't surprised.

"An _accident_…?"

"They are all dead, Mrs Northman," he clarified. "Someone has been extremely careful to tie up any loose ends."

"Madden! That bastard!" I was so furious I nearly choked. "He's had them all killed! I know it!"

"That much is obvious," said Pam. "What we have to decide is what we do next. This lead has proved to be a dead end. We must pursue another means of clearing the master's name."

"No. I don't believe it. There must be something." I was desperate by now. I turned back to the lawyer. "Have you got the papers with you?"

"Yes, but I assure you I have been extremely thorough…"

"Let me see them." I held out my hand and saw Bill and Pam exchange glances. They clearly thought that the poor pathetic human was clutching at straws now.

"Sookie, I'm sorry, but you have to accept it. Cataliades knows his job. If there was anything there he would have found it." That was Bill.

"No I don't have to do anything of the kind. He knows his job but he doesn't know Eric. Now, let me see the papers."

The lawyer reluctantly opened his briefcase and drew out a sheaf of documents. There wasn't as much as I'd thought there would be. The transcript of the trial itself ran to eight pages, and there were copies of emails that Eric had supposedly sent to King Russell's agents, and one or two other items; a hotel receipt, a car park ticket, that sort of thing.

I quickly skimmed the transcript while the others discussed their next move. I blocked out the sound of their voices, and focussed real hard on what I was looking at. I moved from the transcript and started to read the emails. Back and forth I went, from one to the other, checking dates and times, looking for names, places, anything that was familiar. Then I saw something that made me look more closely. A date in an email stood out. I read it again.

"Mr Cataliades…" my voice was carefully neutral, but there must have been something in it that caught the others' attention, because they stopped talking and all three of them looked at me.

"This email here. Can you explain it to me, please?" I wasn't sure if it really did mean what I thought it meant.

He took it from me and glanced through it.

"This is an email purporting to be from Sheriff Northman…excuse me, Mr Northman, describing a meeting he had with one of the King of Mississippi's representatives. It doesn't say anything about the content of the meeting, but any contact at all with agents of another kingdom is treasonous unless authorised by the king, and this specifically states that this meeting was not authorised by the king. It is quite incriminating, I'm afraid; one of the main pieces of evidence against him"

"The date of the meeting. It says Eric met this agent on the 19th of March this year, yes?" I could hardly breathe, waiting for his answer.

"Yes, that's right." He looked at me, puzzled.

I breathed out. "Then we can prove it's a forgery. Eric did not write this."

The others sat up. I had their full attention now. "How do you know?" that was Pam.

"Because he was with _me_ on that date. The 19th of March is _my birthday,_ and this year it was the most embarrassing birthday of my life! Eric took me to Frosty's, a restaurant and nightclub in Monroe. We were seen by hundreds of people, most of whom will remember us, because the lead singer of the band there hit on me and Eric strangled him with his own microphone cable and then trashed the place when the guy's band-mates jumped him! The owner called the vampire police and Eric spent the rest of the night with me in a police cell with silver bars, trying to argue his way out. He only got away with it because there was an off-duty vamp policeman in the nightclub, and he testified that the other guys started it. Eric got let off with a warning, but the police records will show where he was, and when, and so he couldn't have been meeting this agent in Jackson." I stopped.

They were staring at me. Pam said, "I remember that. I remember how furious he was, but I had forgotten the date. He forbade me ever to speak of it again. Sookie, if you are right, this could be what we need." She turned to the lawyer. "What do you think?"

He was examining the email very carefully. We waited in silence. I was the only breather in the room, but I'll swear the other two were holding their breath as well. Finally he lifted his head, and the smile on his face told us everything we needed to know.

"Mrs Northman is correct. If we can get the arrest records from the police station in Monroe, this email can be proven to be a forgery, and if we can cast doubt on this, it taints all other evidence in the trial. We should be able to get the verdict set aside, or at the very least, a re-trial."

"Yes! Oh thank God!" Pam put her fist clean through my coffee-table, unable to contain herself, and Bill seized me round the waist and lifted me clean off my feet, waltzing me round the room, as I laughed and cried both together. At last, he set me down, and I said, "I'm taking this to the king. Right now."

That sobered them up some. "Sookie, the ball will be starting soon. Wouldn't it be better to wait until tomorrow night? He won't thank you for disturbing him now."

"I don't care. Felipe's a decent guy. He convicted Eric on the evidence he was presented with. If we can show him that the evidence was faked, he will want to know who faked it, and we all know who that was!"

"Madden!" The glee in Pam's voice was palpable.

"Yes! We've got him! The king will tear him apart for this – he's made Felipe look like a fool, manipulating him to find Eric guilty – that's something the king will never forgive him for. But it has to be tonight. Madden's here for the Ball and there's no way I can go through the whole evening without letting him see we're onto him. I just won't be able to contain it, knowing we've got him by the short and curlies."

"That, at least is, true," said Pam. "Although she is better than most humans, with the state Sookie is in right now Madden will only have to look at her to know something is wrong. We do not want to reveal our hand before we are ready. She had better go to the king."

"We'll come too." Bill was on his feet heading for the door, but I stopped him.

"No. He'll see me, because I'm part of his retinue, but the guards won't let you guys in. Anyway, the ball will be starting soon, and you're meant to be in the ballroom ready for Felipe's entrance. And where's your friend Martin, Pam? Is he here yet?"

"Martin? Yes, he arrived a little while ago. I left him getting into his costume. He's probably in the ballroom by now."

"Then you'd better get along there to see him. Bill, Mr C, thank you so much for all your help. I couldn't have done this without you." I hugged them both, and felt the lawyers chest vibrating as he chuckled.

"What's tickling you?" I asked him.

His eyes twinkled. "Do you know what the best thing about this whole sorry mess is?"

We looked at him, puzzled. "well, Eric coming home, obviously," I said.

"Please excuse me, of course. I meant from a purely legal point of view" he said. "There is an interesting legal point here. According to vampire law, testimony from a vampire's pledged partner or child cannot be accepted by a court, as their evidence is unreliable; they are too easily influenced by their maker or partner. This means, of course, that Miss Ravenscroft may not testify on Mr Northman's behalf at any re-trial, and until recently, Mrs Northman, neither could you, because of your pledging. But thanks to Mr Madden…" I interrupted him.

"I'm not pledged to Eric any more! We're divorced! So I can testify! And it's all Victor's own doing! The divorce was his idea! If he hadn't made us do that, he'd have been safe! Oh God, this is so sweet! I can't wait to see his face!" I danced around the room, grinning madly.

"Speaking of faces, Sookie, you'd better repair yours before you go to the king. Your make-up has become somewhat smudged." Pam's tone was dry.

"Really?" I took a quick glance in the mirror. Jeez, she was right. "I'd better do a repair job."

"Let me help you. I can work more swiftly than you." In a matter of seconds she had renewed my make-up, even though I could barely hold still for excitement. But she held my face very firmly until she'd finished and it looked even better than before. She had great taste, and of course, centuries of practice.

"Thanks Pam. Right, give me those papers. I'll see you all in the ballroom."

I grabbed my purse, which lay on the table ready for the evening (just a lipstick, a handkerchief and some change for tips in the ladies' room), my AAA pass and the all-important documents. Then they all headed off in one direction and I went in the other, my heart singing for joy.

I got to the royal apartments and spoke to the guard on the door. Tonight, as it was a special formal occasion, the king wasn't guarded by Weres – he had an honour guard of twelve vampires. They were all dressed head to toe in black and gold uniforms and they carried swords – the only weapons that would be allowed in the ballroom tonight. Any costumes that might have a sword as part of them would be just the hilt, for the look of the thing. The king took no chances. I explained to the guard that I had some very urgent business with the king, and he knocked and sent a message in by a chamberlain. I was practically hopping from one foot to the other, hoping and praying Felipe would see me.

My prayers must have worked, because the chamberlain came back and said the king could give me five minutes. Oh, thank goodness for that.

I followed the chamberlain in and through several doors before I reached the king's dressing-room. It was huge, all white and gold, and full of mirrors and racks of clothes. Felipe was standing between the wings of a huge three-panelled mirror getting ready. He looked really handsome. He had chosen to go as a Celtic chieftain, and he was bare-chested, with black leather trousers belted by a gold chain with a huge gold buckle set with amber, and he had a gold and amber circlet in his hair, with matching armbands. That's all he had on, apart from sandals, although there was a huge scarlet cloak with a big brooch to fasten it hanging ready on a stand. To give him the complete Celtic look, he was in the process of having blue patterns painted on his torso (which, by the way, was quite impressive) by a young vampiress with a pot of dye, a couple of brushes and a very nervous expression. He already had dark hair and eyes, and the whole ensemble really suited him. I was impressed. I was also willing to bet that the jewellery wasn't just any old jewellery, but was real two-thousand-year-old Celtic jewellery. I'd picked up from a lot of sources that when vamps wore historical costume, authenticity was important to them. Because so many of them remembered the time themselves, they liked to get the period details right.

He looked at me in the mirror as I curtseyed in the royal presence.

"My dear Mrs Northman…" he took in my appearance and his smile widened. "My _very_ dear Mrs Northman, you look absolutely stunning. You are…?" he ended with a faint query.

"I'm Helen of Troy, your majesty, but I've come to speak to you…" I stopped as he gestured to me to wait.

"Helen of Troy." He mused. "A lovely woman who was stolen from her husband, who then started a devastating war and burned an entire city in order to recover her. An interesting choice, my dear. What made you decide on the beauteous Helen?"

I stared at him for a minute, not quite sure what he was getting at, and then the penny dropped. He thought I was making some sort of statement. Oh shit. This was not the moment to antagonise him. Thanks a lot, Eric; Mr Manipulative strikes again. Think fast, Sookie. "Oh, I wanted a classical theme and there's a big picture of her in the Blue Salon and I liked the dress." I smiled my old Sookie smile, the one I used when I was stressed. "Do you like it?" Damn, I was flirting with the king! Stop it now, Sookie!

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then his face relaxed. "It is very lovely, my dear. It suits you. But I'm sure you didn't interrupt my preparations to ask me about your costume. I assume that whatever brings you here is serious?" His voice ended on a questioning note, and I took a deep breath and plunged into my story.

I explained everything, showed him the email, told him about the brawl in the nightclub and then stopped and waited breathlessly for his response. As I had spoken a small frown had gathered on his brow. He had gestured to the body-artist to stop her work and he was clearly listening very carefully. Thank goodness, he was taking me seriously.

Now he held out his hand for the email and studied it closely. For one nasty moment I thought he was going to ask where I had got it, but he didn't. He read it at least twice, and finally he looked up at me.

"You do realise how serious this is, Mrs Northman?"

"Yes, sir, absolutely."

"If this email can be proved to be a fake, then it undermines the credibility of all the other evidence presented at Mr Northman's trial."

Again, I agreed with him. Inside I was doing a happy dance. His thoughts were moving along exactly the same lines as ours. He had to reach the same conclusion.

"If we cannot trust the evidence, we cannot trust the verdict. I am seriously displeased. Victor Madden has some explaining to do." He turned to one of the chamberlains and said, "find Sheriff Madden and bring him here immediately." Yes! In your face, Victor!

The king turned back to me and said courteously, "I must thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, my dear. Please excuse me if I continue to apply my warpaint, while we are waiting for the Sheriff. It would not do to be late fot the Ball. Punctuality is the politeness of princes, you know. Incidentally, I am very happy to see that your hands have healed so well. Your friend, Miss Ravenscroft, I believe?"

"Yes, sir. She gave me her blood when she arrived last night." I tried to speak calmly, but I could hardly contain my excitement. Eric would be exonerated. He could come home! I was so happy I could almost have burst into song. He gestured to the vampire girl and she continued her artwork. It was really intricate, but she was just about done. He asked me what I thought, and I told him he looked magnificent. I wasn't just blowing smoke; it was true. He thanked me politely, and reached for his cloak. One of the chamberlains came forward and helped him drape it artistically, before pinning it in place with the huge gold brooch.

At last there was a knock on the door and the guard announced "Sheriff Madden, your majesty."

"Come in, Sheriff," said the king. Victor entered, and touched one knee to the floor briefly. His costume, as might have been expected, was so OTT it was unbelievable. He was dressed as Louis XIV, the Sun King. His coat, knee-breeches and waistcoat were cloth of gold. He wore rubies in his cravat and on his fingers and OMG even the heels of his shoes had rubies set in them! He had make-up on, including lipstick and a heart-shaped beauty spot by his eye, he had bunches of ribbons where his breeches joined his stockings (stockings, for crying out loud!). His wig must have been a foot high and he carried a cane that was nearly as tall as he was, with one of those quizzing-glasses set in the top. I felt I needed sunglasses just to look at him.

He rose to his feet again and came forward, glancing at me before fixing his gaze on the king. "You wanted to see me, my king?"

"Yes, Sheriff." The king was being very formal. "Some very disturbing information has been laid before me this evening. You were responsible for collecting the evidence against Eric Northman at his recent trial, were you not?"

Victor's eyes darted over to me, and then to the paper in the king's hand. He was wondering what answer the king wanted, but Felipe's face was completely unreadable. No clues, Victor! You're on your own! I kept my own face as blank as possible, although the effort nearly killed me. Eventually he said,

"Yes, I was, your majesty."

"This email, apparently sent by Mr Northman, constituted part of that evidence. In it, he refers to a meeting he attended on 19 March this year, but I understand from Mrs Northman that on the date in question, he was with her, in Monroe, and could not possibly have been in Jackson, Mississippi." The king's voice was steady and implacable.

Victor looked shaken to the core. "Sire, I…" his voice died away and he licked his lips.

"You are aware, are you not, Sheriff, that if this important piece of evidence is found to be false, the authenticity of all the evidence in that trial must be called into question? It is more than possible that Mr Northman can be shown to be innocent of the charges brought against him."

"Yes, sire." Victor's voice was almost inaudible. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and I loved it.

"Do you have an explanation for this?" Felipe's voice was gentle but even I could hear the potential menace in it.

"Er, not immediately, your majesty. If I could see the document in question?" Madden was just playing for time, and we all knew it. I didn't care. I could wait.

Felipe did not trouble to hand the paper to Madden himself. He gave it to a chamberlain, who passed it to the terrified, overdressed vampire, who was shaking so hard all the jewels he was wearing were sparkling madly. I loved it. We had him right where we wanted him now!

Victor stared at the email, as though willing it to give him an answer that would satisfy the king, but there was no answer to be given. At last, he raised desperate eyes, licked his lips again and said,

"No sire. I have no explanation."

I waited for the king to deliver the coup de graçe. He said,

"I am seriously displeased, Sheriff. I entrusted you with an extremely important task and you have failed me. This affair could be very embarrassing for me personally. I do not like being made to look a fool, Madden." This was perfect! Madden closed his eyes briefly. He could practically hear the stake being sharpened.

"No your majesty, please forgive me."

The king drew himself up. His fangs were down. Here it came. My heart was pounding. I knew the vamps could hear it, because they both glanced at me before locking gazes once more, one full of terror and one full of outraged authority.

"Understand me, Madden; This should have been checked. I do not expect such elementary errors when I command you to fake evidence against someone. If this happens again I shall relieve you of your post as Sheriff. Is that quite clear?"

"Yes, your majesty."

Hold on just a second. What? Surely I couldn't have heard him correctly. Did he just say _he _commanded…? My mind felt paralysed for a second as I stared from one vampire to the other, and then it unfroze and the truth rushed in on me with horrifying clarity. It wasn't Victor behind Eric's downfall… it was…Oh my God.

I looked at the king in horror. He was smiling at me, and suddenly my knees gave way underneath me, the room span in front of my eyes and everything went dark.


	20. Chapter 20

**OK folks, Nearly there. The last chapter but one. Sorry it's taken so long , this one's been a real b**** to write, tying up loose ends and so on - in fact, it started out as the very last chapter, but grew so huge I had to split it in two. **

**Second installment is written - it just needs tidying up, and then I'll post, I promise.**

**As usual, please review.**

**Thanks. Enjoy.**

Chapter 20

I must have been out for a few minutes, as when my vision cleared the room was empty except for the king and me. I was sitting in the only chair in the room and Felipe had his hands on my shoulders, looking at me intently from real close up. Ick. As he saw me return to consciousness he released me and I shrank away from him, staring wildly.

"You…? It was you who…" I could barely speak, but he finished my sentence.

"framed the Viking? Of course. Did you really think Victor had the brains to do that? He couldn't even manage the simple task of compiling the evidence correctly. No, my dear, it was I."

My thoughts were scurrying round inside my head like a lab-rat in a maze. I kept hitting dead-ends, and it was giving me a headache. All I could manage to say was, "but why?" Pretty stupid, I know, but I really wasn't thinking clearly right now.

"Why? Because I wanted to acquire you and your skills, of course. The late Queen, Sophie-Ann had the right idea, she just went about it the wrong way. She relied on her favourite, Compton, romancing you to bring you under her control, but she should have known that "emotions" (his face registered distaste as he said the word) are almost never reliable. She did not anticipate that he would become obsessed with you."

My mouth was dry and I swallowed hard. "I meant, why frame Eric? Why not just kill him?"

He smiled. He was clearly more than happy to explain how clever he had been. "Naturally, I considered a number of options. I could have killed him, true, but I would have lost my hold over you. Or I could have simply taken you from him, but he might have rebelled, and while Louisiana was still in a state of flux after my…acquisition he could have caused me more trouble than I was prepared to deal with. I could have removed him from his position as Sheriff, but his followers are astonishingly loyal - did you know that they were prepared to die rather than surrender without his say-so, during the take-over?- (yes, I had known that.) and he would have remained a thorn in my side, plotting and manoeuvring to get you back. No, this way the Viking has been neutralised, but is still alive, and one day when he has gotten over his infatuation with you I will bring him back to work for me again. He will very profitable, when he has learned obedience."

I managed to say, "Eric is not 'infatuated' with me. He loves me. And I love him." My eyes began to fill with tears and he sighed.

"_Do_ try to take the long view. Vampires are immortal; you are not. Eventually you will grow old and die, and then I shall allow him to return and serve me again. A century or so means nothing in the context of our lifespan. Or, if I decide to turn you, your loyalty to me as your maker would take precedence over any transitory attachment to him, and he would be forced to acknowledge that. He is nothing if not a realist. Meanwhile, he is a hostage for your good behaviour, and you are a hostage for his. Neat, don't you think?"

Damn him, it _was_ neat. Eric had been right when he had said Felipe was ruthless and cunning. I should have known, you don't get to be king of three territories by being Mr Nice Vampire. He looked so smug I wanted to kick him in the balls just to wipe the smile off his face. Instead, I said,

"OK. So you've demonstrated how clever you are, and I'm suitably impressed. Now what?"

"Now what? Now we go to the Ball, my dear. I have guests waiting, many of whom are eager to meet my telepath." Oh great. More of that "mine" BS. Like I didn't get enough of that from Eric, who at least had more of a right to use the word than El Creepo here.

"No way. I'm not going to any stupid Ball. Not now."

He smiled, showing a hint of fang. "Oh, but you are. You are going to smile and dance with, and be pleasant to, my guests all evening. In fact, you are going to do exactly as you are told, for the sake of your friends Mr Compton and Miss Ravenscroft. Oh yes, I know they are involved in this in some way, and at the first hint of recalcitrance from you they will be arrested and taken to the Custody Suite for interrogation." Oh, shit. I felt the blood drain from my face. He watched me change colour and then he said,

"You see, my dear, you have a remarkable capacity for self-sacrifice when those you love are threatened, even more than most humans. I am sure you see this as an admirable characteristic, but it is in fact a vulnerability which makes you all too easy to exploit. No vampire would be stupid enough to voluntarily sacrifice himself for the sake of another, but you will do anything for your friends and family and, of course, the Viking, and once I identified that as your main weakness, it was extremely simple to manipulate you."

He glanced at the clock. "We do not have time now, but after the Ball we will continue this conversation, and then you will tell me who gave you access to this _confidential, encrypted_ email. Oh, yes, you will tell me," he repeated, as I shook my head mutely. "Never doubt it. You will tell me everything I want to know. In fact, you will wish you had more to tell me." The menace in his voice was unmistakeable, and I went cold inside. "And then I think we shall re-negotiate your contract."

"But it's binding for a year…you signed it." I had a feeling of doom as I said this, and his smile grew wider.

"And if I choose to break it, who is there to prevent me? I am the supreme authority in this kingdom. It has been very amusing watching you for the last three months, assessing your value to me, knowing that half the vampires in my court would have drained you by now had they not thought I had chosen to honour this ridiculous contract and would punish them if they laid a fang on you. It was a very convenient way of keeping you for myself, until I decided whether you were worthy of the honour of my attention. And I have now decided that you are. The Viking's sexual appetite is legendary, so I suspect there must be something very special about you to hold his interest for so long, and I shall enjoy finding out what it is."

"I will fight you with every breath in my body." I sure talked a good game.

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you really think that would do any good my dear? Or, would you prefer me to give you to Victor? Although my personal preference is for willing bed-mates, I know he enjoys taming wild spirits such as yourself. In fact, a whole wing of his house in New Orleans is dedicated to the disciplining and training of his pets. I have no doubt he could break you eventually, although his methods may not be to your taste." He took in the horror on my face with great satisfaction, toying with me, before saying, "No, perhaps not. I do not feel he is deserving of a reward after his recent _faux pas_. I am sure you will soon see the advantages in being the king's favourite pet and will welcome me in your bed. Now, it is time to greet my guests. Come along"

He gestured to me to get up, but I felt unable to move. I was in shock. The hideous implications of what he'd just said were sinking in. He was going to torture me (or Pam and Bill) until I gave him Adelaide's name, and then he would torture her. I knew what that involved; I'd been tortured by the Fae not so long ago – I still had some of the scars, and I started to shake. When he'd finished with me he'd go after Paul, and maybe Matt and even Mr Cataliades, although I suspected that the demon lawyer had ways of protecting himself that I didn't know about. It was all coming crashing down around me, and there was nothing I could do. I was caught, and I would never see Eric again.

"Please…please don't make me. I can't." I was nearly sobbing, but he paid no attention to my distress.

"You may either enter the ballroom of your own free will or I will ask Sheriff Madden to assist you. I am sure he would be delighted to have the opportunity to act as your escort. The choice is yours, Sookie." That was the first time he'd used my name. I took it as a sign that he was already feeling like he owned me, and I shuddered with disgust. Given the two alternatives, I knew I had to pull myself together. I was _not_ going to go anywhere on _Victor's_ arm – no way José. I gritted my teeth and pulled myself to my feet. My legs were shaking, but I was vertical. I inspected my gown – it didn't look too crumpled, so I guess he'd caught me before I hit the floor – and then I went slowly over to one of the mirrors and checked out my make-up. I looked pale, but apart from that I was okay.

I studied my reflection, looking into my own eyes, searching for the strength to face what lay ahead. Could I do this? I honestly didn't know, but I had to try. The alternative was too hideous to think about.

"Come along, my dear," I heard the king's voice again. "Or shall I send for Victor? Or perhaps you would prefer to enter the ballroom in chains? Helen of Troy _was _a prisoner, you know – I am sure we can find some golden fetters to set off your delightful costume, for that extra touch of authenticity." Damn him, he wasn't joking. He would drag me there in chains if he had to. I wasn't going to let him humiliate me like that. I willed my legs to be strong, and I turned to face him.

"I'm ready," I said, and there was only a slight quaver in my voice.

"Then let us be going." He turned and led the way towards the room where the rest of his retinue were waiting for him. "Oh yes, and one more thing; if your friends should approach you and ask for information, you will tell them that I am considering my response. But be warned, my dear; their fate rests with you. My men are watching them both. If you attempt to alert them, by look or word, they will be arrested and imprisoned. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal." I had to do this – I had to put the thought of what was going to happen later out of my head. There was the ball to get through first. One thing at a time Sookie. One thing at a time.

As I crossed the room behind him I sent a desperate message of love to Eric. I know it was weak of me, but I couldn't help it – I _so_ needed him with me just then, and he was thousands of miles away. I had only felt the very faintest of signals since I got back to America, but there had been just a trace of him, occasionally, and I had lived for those tiny glimpses, those little flashes of warmth. I prayed for one right now, glancing at my watch to see if he would still be up and about. It was just possible – I didn't know exactly when dawn was tonight in Sweden, but I knew it was round about now. He might pick something up. I concentrated with every ounce of mental strength I had, and hallelujah! there was just the faintest hint. Eric loved me. I _knew_ that. I drew all the strength and courage I could from it, plastered a smile on my face that felt so stiff I thought I was going to have to hold it in place with my fingers, lifted my head and followed Felipe.

Although I was definitely bottom of the heap in Felipe's retinue, and so usually entered last, I always attracted attention. I was human, which made me unique in his inner circle, and tonight I was kind of on display. His latest trophy. I felt sick. I could _so_ have done without all the staring eyes as we entered the ballroom and all the vampires knelt. They only seemed to do this all together on real formal occasions (like when he presided in court and stuff) and it left all the non-vamp guests sticking out like sore thumbs, wondering what the etiquette was. Felipe took his seat, Sandy stood just behind him ( he hadn't replaced Felipe yet) and the rest of us lined up against the back of the dais as the kneeling guests rose to their feet. The only vamps who hadn't knelt were the royal bodyguard; they were permanently on the alert looking out for trouble. Six of them stood round the throne, just behind Felipe and Sandy, swords drawn and the other six fanned out round the room.

First off, we had to get through the speeches and awards. This was the occasion when Felipe thanked all his sheriffs and underlings for their loyalty and service to him, and one by one each sheriff came forward and formally renewed their oaths of fealty before being given a gift of some sort, usually artworks or jewellery. I was surprised that about half the sheriffs were female; vamps seemed to be pretty equal-opportunity in that respect, important posts going to those who earned them (or had paid a big enough bribe for them) regardless of their sex.

While this was going on I scanned the crowd quickly, looking for Bill and Pam. I soon saw them, standing together near the back. Unfortunately, two of the king's bodyguards just happened to be right close by. I was pretty sure they'd had special orders to stick close. My friends hadn't noticed this; they were looking at me very intently, and I had to make sure they didn't see anything they shouldn't. At this distance I had a chance of fooling them, but if they came much closer I was screwed. There was no way they wouldn't spot something was wrong. I had to convince them that everything was A-OK. I smiled at them and gave them a discreet thumbs up. Being vampires, there was no visible reaction but they stopped staring at me and returned their attention to the ceremony. I allowed myself an internal sigh of relief, and then looked around for Mr C and Edward. The ballroom was a blaze of colour. The variety of costumes was amazing, and most of them were really impressive. They certainly did go all out for authentic. One tall vampiress was dressed as Cleopatra and she had a real snake for f***s sake! I could see it slithering round her arms. I would have put money on its being poisonous. Of course, that wasn't a problem for the vamps, but I noticed the humans giving her plenty of elbow room. Another big guy was dressed as a knight, but again it was real armour. I could hear it clanking as he moved. Only a vampire would wear something as uncomfortable and heavy as armour plating to a social function, but I was betting he would probably even dance in it.

Mind you, not all the costumes were so successful; There was a little curly-haried vamp in the crowd who had tried for the Viking look, but I guess they didn't have anything in his size. It was all way too big for him, and he was wearing a stupid-looking helmet with outsize horns on it. Eric had told me Vikings never had horns on their helmets; it was an idea added by the Victorians to make Vikings seem even scarier than they really were (although why they felt the need to do that is anybody's guess – the only Viking I knew scared the shit out of just about everybody without needing horns!). I pictured Eric's reaction if he saw this guy's costume. He'd probably tear the horns off and shove them where the sun don't shine. Just for a second I grinned at the thought, but then reality set in again. I had to think about what I could do to defend myself if necessary. I looked around to see if there was anything handy I could use as a stake, but Felipe was too old a hand to be caught that way. There was nothing in the entire room that was made of wood. Even the wood-look things were made of plastic or some such.

At last I spotted Mr C in the crowd, but there was still no sign of Edward's tall, distinguished figure, although I'd no idea what his costume was. I guess he was another no-show. I was starting to feel uncomfortably hot. It was real stuffy in the ballroom, and I still felt shaky after my interview with the king. I wondered if I could discreetly step out into the gardens for some fresh air once the speeches were over. It would also give me a chance to avoid Pam and Bill for a bit longer. Maybe I could get enough of a grip of myself to con them into thinking everything was fine.

The ceremony seemed to take forever; Most of the courtiers standing with me had gone discreetly into down-time, but I couldn't do that. I suppose it was longer than usual because Felipe now had Louisiana and Arkansas sheriffs to greet as well as Nevada. Of course, he'd put his own men (and women) into all the top jobs. Eric had been the only one to survive the coup, and even he had now been replaced by Victor. Oh, speak of the Devil. Here he came now, mincing forward on his stupid ruby-studded high-heels, convinced he looked fantastic. As he knelt before the king and offered his oath of fealty I wondered just how much that costume had set him back. I knew that he was pretty cash-strapped by now, but maybe he'd decided to splurge on the outfit as a kind of bluff; trying to convince Felipe he was doing just fine. Hah! Good luck with that! He was the last in line, as he was the newest sheriff, so once he'd finished, the king stood up and declared the formal part of the evening over, and invited the guests to enjoy the music and refreshments. The orchestra struck up and people moved onto the dance floor and started to mingle.

No-one was looking at me for a moment, so I began to sidle off the stage, but before I'd gone two paces Felipe had zero-ed in on me. "Where are you going, my dear?" His voice was as genial as ever, but I was no longer taken in by it.

"I was wondering if I could just take a little stroll in the grounds, your majesty," I said. "It's pretty warm in here."

He studied me for a minute. "Hmm. You do look a little flushed," he said. "But it is not unattractive, I assure you." I smiled weakly. I really did not feel so good. I think he must have picked up on that, because he said, "Very well, but do not be too long, there are people I wish you to meet." He beckoned a couple of Weres over from their places against the wall. "Escort Mrs Northman to the gardens. See that no harm comes to her." They both bowed and I stepped down from the platform and made my way out of the ballroom through the same door we'd come in by. This meant I could avoid Pam and Bill, who were at the far end of the room. I had the advantage over them of knowing the layout of this place and I knew how to reach the elevators without going near the ballroom again.

The Weres with me were perfectly friendly; they had no idea something was wrong. They just chatted as usual, and I did my best to maintain a normal conversation with them as we went past the security teams and up in the elevator, but I really was starting to feel faint.

When I got outside, I just stood and breathed the still night air deeply for a few minutes. It wasn't cool – this was the Nevada desert – but at least it wasn't stale either. When I felt a little stronger I walked down the pathway to my usual spot by the little pool. The guards were going to sit on the bench with me, but I said, "give me a couple of minutes, huh, guys? Please? I just need some space." They looked at each other, and retreated back to the path. I wandered round the edge of the pool, looking at the bamboos. Bamboo was sharp and pointy when you broke it, right? The idea of somehow using it as a stake crossed my mind, but then I had a reality check. Think again, girl. Even if you could break a length off without the guards spotting you, how are you going to get it into the ballroom? It's not like you could stuff it down your pantyhose. Don't you think the security teams would notice that you're carrying concealed? They're on full alert tonight – you couldn't get a toothpick in there.

I gave up, sat on the bench and closed my eyes. I knew there was no point trying to reach Eric now; the night was long gone in Sweden. He would be asleep, not knowing what was happening to me. Maybe he was dreaming of me, completely unaware that he would never see me again. Oh, Jesus. I was suddenly overwhelmed with misery. I didn't know if I could take this any longer. Maybe it would be better to just let go. Just finish it all here and now. All this trouble had come about because of me and my stupid telepathy. If I wasn't here any more, then at least they couldn't fight over me. There was zero chance of my seeing Eric ever again anyway, and without him I didn't know if I wanted to live. There was also the hideous prospect of torture in the immediate future, followed by being either turned or forced into sexual slavery by Felipe. Could I face that? I knew exactly what he was capable of – I'd seen it in the Custody Suite. I knew with absolute certainty I would not survive it.

I stood up and slowly walked to the side of the pool. For the first time I wondered how deep it was. If a person could drown in it and how long it would take. But of course, the Weres would never let me get that far. I'd have to think of something else. The lanterns that had been hung from the bamboos shone blue and green and yellow in the dark water. Their reflections were broken and shattered as the water rippled and then they came together again, the colours merging and breaking apart and…merging again… and forming a different pattern. The light was redder now, quite a bright red, but growing paler by the second, and a face began to emerge from the pattern. I stood motionless, not daring to breathe as the light in the water shone brighter and whiter and resolved itself into…

"_Sookie, my child."_ The voice sounded in my head and I answered in the same way, almost in a trance.

"_Great-grandfather!"_ Niall's face smiled up at me from the water. I risked a glance over at my guards, but they were quietly talking to each other on the path. One of them laughed briefly about something, and plucked a leaf from a nearby plant, twirling it between his fingers. They hadn't noticed a thing. I tried to remain completely motionless, hoping desperately that I wouldn't attract their attention.

"_My child, I have felt your deep distress. You are overwhelmed with grief and fear, and I had to come to you in the only way I can. I cannot see into your mind, while your shields are up; I could only sense that you are in great torment. Please, share your trouble with me."_

I closed my eyes, let down my shields, opened my mind and dumped the whole kit and caboodle onto him: everything. My disappointment at being unable to help Eric; my discovery of Felipe's duplicity; my fear for my friends; my terror of what Felipe had planned for me; my desperation and hopelessness. It all poured out in a flood, and he absorbed it all.

Then I opened my eyes and looked at him. As the water moved, his image shifted, and then came together again. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then spoke.

"_My dear granddaughter, you must not do this. I see what you are contemplating, and it must not be."_

"_Niall, I can't go on. I'm at the end of my rope. I've got nothing left to give. I can't see where to go from here; everything's dark."_

"_Have you thought of the impact your death would have on your vampire?" _

I had a fleeting thought of Eric kneeling in front of my picture on his little island, his face in his hands. Could I do that to him again? But wouldn't it hurt him even worse, knowing that I lived, but was Felipe's? I didn't know. I shook the thought away.

"_He'll never see me again anyway, or if he did it would only be after I'd been turned, and belonged to Felipe. He wouldn't want that for me, I'm sure of it."_

"_Child, I forbid it. I am your great-grandfather, and I will not permit this."_

In the middle of my despair, I felt a familiar spark of rebellion. Too many people had spent too much time telling me what I could and could not do with my own life. Or death.

_"How can you stop me?"_

_"Quite easily, if I choose."_

Furious at his calm arrogance, I tried to turn away and found I couldn't. Then I tried to turn my head and found that was frozen too. I was held motionless. I could feel his power surrounding me, flowing over me, like a force-field. Sweet Jesus, I had never felt anything like it! Vampire glamour had nothing on this! I wasn't scared or hurt; just…held. No wonder the vamps showed Niall respect! After a minute I felt his mind release me.

"_My power can still extend into the human realm, Sookie. Never doubt it."_

I never would again, that's for sure. Okay, so he wasn't going to let me chicken out. What other options did I have?

_"Grandfather, can I come and join you in Faerie?"_

"_The portals are closed, child. You know that. I can project myself, and influence your world through my magic, but even I may not physically pass between the worlds."_

_"Then what am I gonna do?"_

He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said, _"I cannot help you directly, but I can give you one piece of information, and one piece of advice. Whether you choose to accept it or not is up to you, but I do not give advice lightly, and you would do well to trust me."_

Oh. Okay. That was something.

_"Well, what is it?_

"_Firstly, the information. I am sworn to secrecy as to the details, but I can tell you that I have been in contact with your Viking. He loves you, and he has promised me he will never stop trying to save you. He will never give in. He would not wish you to give in either."_

Oh My God!

"_What? You've seen Eric? When? How was he?"_

"_I have not seen him, but I have spoken with him quite recently. Do not ask me any more. Secondly, the advice."_

"Mrs Northman? Ma'am? It's time we were heading back inside." Damn! Damn! ! One of the Weres was approaching. I threw him a hunted look and then turned back to Niall. He had heard the Were too.

"_What advice? Tell me! Hurry! !"_

"_Go now and buy a popsicle."_

Nah. He didn't just say that. I was sure I was hearing things.

"_Pardon me?"_

"_Go and buy a popsicle – I think I have that word correctly? – the frozen fruit juice treat that I have seen you enjoying while you sit here. Go and buy one now."_

What? ! ? _"A popsicle? Then what?"_

"_You will know what to do with it. Now I must go. When the night is over, you may come here and thank me. I will be waiting for you."_

"_Niall, wait! What am I supposed to do with…Niall! ! !"_

It was too late, his image had faded from the water, leaving only the coloured lanterns reflected in the pool again. Damn, that was so frustrating! And so confusing! What the hell did he mean, go and buy a popsicle? I looked at the guard and saw him waiting for me. He hadn't noticed anything unusual, and so I gave him my best smile and began to make my way slowly back inside with them both in tow. OK, that was weird. So now I had to decide what to do. My mind was spinning.

Think it through, Sookie. Your fae great-grandfather has just taken the trouble to project himself into a pond in order to tell you that he had spoken to Eric and that you are to go and buy a popsicle. No, it was no good. No matter how I phrased it, it still sounded completely wacko. Try again.

Your fae great-grandfather, who loves you, has asked you to trust him, and has given you pretty much the first piece of advice you've ever had from him. You have to decide whether to take that advice. Have you got any reason not to take it? You know he cares about you – he killed members of his own family to rescue you during the Fae War. He says Eric hasn't given up, and wouldn't want you to give up. He's probably right about that. He may not be wild about Eric, but he wouldn't have been in touch with him if he didn't at least respect him. He must have had a reason for speaking to him. So, are you going to trust him or not? Ultimately, what have you got to lose, Sookie? That was a hell of a good point.

We went back through the main door and as we passed through the reception area I made up my mind. I turned and headed for the popsicle machine, digging some change out of my little gold purse. Hmm. I wondered if the flavour was significant. He didn't say anything about that, so I just decided to go with melon. The colour was almost the same as my lipstick. The guards laughed when they saw what I was doing, but they'd all seen me eating popsicles before, so they just teased me a little and I offered to buy them one.

It was amazing, but after talking with Niall I felt better, somehow. Even though the future didn't look great, I knew he was looking out for me, and there was something going on somewhere. And he'd seen Eric, who was trying to save me. That gave me such a boost that I was ready to go back to the ballroom and face whatever was there. I wasn't alone. The insane suicidal impulse had completely passed, and I was, if not strong, at least walking wounded.

I sucked my popsicle all the way down in the elevator, taking great care not to let it drip on my beautiful dress, and then I had to put up with the security guys making fun of me too. Fortunately, the asshole who'd searched me earlier wasn't there now and I knew all the guys in this team. However, even though they knew me, the search was still very thorough. There was no way anyone was getting anything past these guys; Felipe only employed the best. Then I was heading down the corridor towards the ballroom again.

A door opened ahead of me, and I saw a couple of women coming out of the ladies' powder-room. That reminded me, I could do with a quick pit-stop myself. I told the Weres and they leaned up against the wall opposite the door while I went inside.

Even though it wasn't used by the vampires, Felipe had really pulled out all the stops in his provision for his human and Were guests. He wanted to impress, and he certainly knew how to go about it. This was a newly-decorated room, all in pink with mirrors and flowers and classical music playing. There was a smiling attendant to hand you towels and such, and on the vanity unity there was a whole range of things that a lady might need, including a sewing-kit for emergency repairs to costumes, and a manicure set complete with little bottles of polish in about a million colors in case anyone cracked a nail.

I sat on one of the padded velvet stools and finished the last of my popsicle, while other guests came and went around me. When it was all gone, I wasn't quite sure what to do next. Well, I'd finished my popsicle and nothing amazing or miraculous had happened. I felt a bit let-down. I hadn't known what to expect, but I'd at least expected _something_. Wait! Suddenly I remembered the message under the stamp that Eric had sent me! Maybe there was a hidden message on the stick! My heart jumped and I quickly examined it, but it was completely blank. I found it hard to blink back the tears of disappointment. I'd been so sure for just a minute… then I gave myself a mental shake. Come on, Sookie, get real. How could he possibly doctor one popsicle and be sure you'd get it and no-one else? You're just clutching at straws here, girl. There's no hidden messages and it's not a magic wand, it's just a plain old popsicle stick.

Just a minute…what had Niall said? _You will know what to do with it. _I was supposed to do something with it…as I looked at it, I remembered something someone had said to me earlier this evening, and a tiny seed of an idea began to germinate in my mind. I considered it for a few minutes. Well, that was a thought. It would require a hell of a lot of nerve, though. Could I do it? Maybe. It was sure as hell worth a try. I checked out the attendant in the mirror. She was talking to a big fat lady in a mermaid costume that was so tight it looked like someone had poured her into it and forgotten to say when.*

"Oh shoot – my nail!" I said, and reached for the manicure kit and scurried into one of the cubicles. I set to work and within five minutes I had produced the result I wanted. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. I came out of the cubicle, put the manicure set back, smiled at and tipped the attendant and went back to the ballroom, filled with a new determination.

The dancing was in full swing when I got there. Felipe was sitting on his throne, his scarlet cloak tossed back to show off his blue body art. He was watching the door and he saw me come in and nodded to me in a significant way. I kept my face blank (not yet, Sookie, your chance will come) and went and found a seat near one of the tables, while my guards went back to lining the walls with the other Weres. For a while I sat and watched the other guests. Mr C was deep in conversation with a couple of vamps dressed as a cat and a dog, I could see Pam dancing energetically with a Pierrot and Bill appeared to be enjoying himself with a buxom blond dressed (or not) as Lady Godiva. Eeww! That was carrying authenticity a bit too far! Still, at least she hadn't brought her horse with her!

"Pardon me, Madame." Suddenly I found I was being spoken to and I looked round to see the small guy in the overlarge Viking costume bowing to me. "May I have the pleasure of this dance?" I looked at him a little doubtfully. I was kind of worried he'd trip over his outsize wolf-skin cloak and end up making us both look like idiots, but he went on, "Permit me to introduce myself, chère Madame. I am Martin Chéron. I am a friend of the lovely Pamela, and I believe it is to you that I owe the honour of being here tonight?" Oh. This was the guy who could apparently keep up with Pam in bed. That made him something of a rarity. I smiled and gave him my hand and he raised it to his lips and kissed the very tips of my fingers. Nice. I had a closer look at him. Underneath the ridiculous costume (Pam had said he'd had trouble finding one at short notice, which explained the size thing) he looked quite sweet. He had taken the stupid helmet off, and he had medium brown curly hair and warm brown eyes. His face was round and freckled, which really showed up against his pale skin, and he had very nice teeth as he smiled at me. And his accent was really sexy; He sounded like Frenchmen are supposed to sound in the movies. (What is it with me and European accents? First Edward, now this guy?)

I decided that dancing with him, would probably be a good thing. It would keep Felipe happy. He'd told me I had to dance and make nice with his guests, and at least if I was with this guest I wouldn't have to dance with any others. But the cloak was going to have to go. "I'd be delighted, Mr Chéron, but don't you think you'd be a little more comfortable if you took the cloak off?" He looked a slightly surprised, but said, "if it is your wish, Madame," and unfastened the big brooch that was holding it shut. He laid it over the chair and held out his hand to me. I moved onto the dance-floor with him and we began a slow fox-trot. I love dancing, and to my surprise this guy was pretty good. He was about the same height as me, so our steps suited well;, he didn't tread on my feet and he knew how to lead. If I hadn't been so distracted I would probably have enjoyed it.

As we circled the floor, he looked at me and said softly, "You are sad, lovely lady." I tried to smile brightly and deny it, but he shook his head and said, "No, no, you do not need to pretend. I know that your heart, it is aching. You are grieving for your Viking, n'est-ce pas? Pamela, she has confided in me, and I know your sorrow. Did your meeting with the king this evening not go well?"

Jeez, Pam must really trust this guy if she'd told him this much. I glanced over at her, to see she was looking at me. She smiled slightly and nodded before looking back at her Pierrot. Well, that was comforting; she seemed to approve, so I decided to tell the truth.

"Not particularly."

"I am sorry for it." He said no more, and I was grateful for his tact. He could have asked me some pretty awkward questions. We continued to dance in silence for a while, and then the music changed to a waltz. I sighed. This was supposed to have been my dance with Lord Eskham, but he was nowhere to be seen. I guess he wasn't coming. That was a real shame; I'd felt somehow that he was a friend I could have relied on, and right now I could use all the friends I could get.

Martin looked at me questioningly, but didn't ask me why I had sighed. This guy had lovely manners; I could see why Pam said he was charming, and when he bowed and said, "will you waltz with me_, belle Hélène_?" I was tempted to agree. Then I saw Victor Madden approaching, and I agreed at once. I sure as hell didn't want to dance with Victor! Anyway, it was kind of restful, being with someone who knew at least some of what was going on but didn't put any pressure on me.

He held me close but not so close I felt uncomfortable, and said, "I see the repulsive Victor Madden hovering. He will try to cut in, I think. Let us move to the other side of the dance-floor," and he spun me away until we were well out of Victor's reach. Yep, this guy was definitely a good dancer. I smiled and relaxed just a little bit.

He smiled in response and said, "That is better. You have a very beautiful smile, cherie. I thought you would prefer to stay away from that _scélerat_."

"Excuse me?"

"Pardon, Madame. I should have said, that scoundrel. I know how he has hurt you."

"You're right there. I can't stand him. But even so…" I was real tempted. It was so hard having to carry this burden of knowledge on my own. But could I trust him?

He looked at me, and said, "Even so…?" There was such compassion and sympathy in those brown eyes that I felt drawn to him. I risked it.

"He's not the worst vamp here."

"Ah?" His eyebrows rose questioningly.

I glanced over at the stage where the king was sitting talking to a fat human in a clown costume. Or maybe he wasn't fat. It could be padding…c'mon, Sookie, focus! I breathed the words, "It was all orders from…" and nodded my head fractionally in Felipe's direction.

"Ah." This time he nodded as though he understood. "So, the overdressed Monsieur Madden was simply obeying orders. That makes it very difficult, does it not? Is Pamela aware of this?"

"No, and she mustn't know or…" I couldn't complete the sentence, but my face must have told the story. He was pretty quick on the uptake, and said, "I understand. I shall say nothing."

"Thank you."

We continued to move around the floor, and I could tell he was playing a kind of game with Victor, waiting until he got almost close enough to speak to us and then suddenly sweeping me away to a completely different part of the room. Under other circumstances it would have been really funny. After one of these manoeuvres he said,

"that is a very lovely watch you are wearing."

"Thank you – it's a sunset watch. My husband gave it to me."

"It is very unusual – I have only ever seen one like it before."

"Really?" I answered pretty much at random – Victor was making another approach and I was keeping an eye on him. "Where was that?"

He shook his sleeve back. "Here."

I glanced at his wrist, and then did a double-take. A sunset watch, sure, they were becoming increasingly common although it was usually humans who wore them, but the strap…diamonds and pearls…

"Where did you get that? I mean, who…" My voice tailed away as I stared at him.

He smiled slightly, and as I looked there was the faintest shimmer and the warm brown eyes suddenly became piercing ice-blue for a fraction of a second, and then it was gone, so quickly that I wasn't even sure I hadn't imagined it. What? I mean, WHAT?

"Eri…" I started to say, but he squeezed my hand warningly and continued to pilot me around the dance-floor. It was a good thing he had a firm hold of me because I was just about ready to collapse on the floor. My head was spinning and I blinked and stared. Had I _really_ just seen that?

He smiled at me and murmured, "bonsoir, ma petite femme."

I knew enough French for that. He'd just called me his little wife. That confirmed it; no matter what he looked like, this was Eric! My beautiful Viking was here, holding me, in the middle of Felipe's ballroom! In spite of the danger, I had to fight not to just throw my arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. I gripped his hand as hard as I could, using every ounce of willpower I had to keep from grinning my head off, but I had to ask. I had to know. I allowed him to draw me closer as thought it was part of the dance, and I murmured as quietly as I could,

"How…I mean, how…?"

His reply was equally soft. "Niall. He can do Were magic." He was talking about the magic that made Weres and shifters change their appearance. It was very strong, and Eric must have somehow managed to persuade Niall to give him a spell or charm or something that let him use it. But Niall was in Faerie! Again I asked,

"How…?" and again he understood me. He could follow my train of thought as clearly as if I'd spoken out loud. This was definitely Eric.

"Claude. He contacted Niall for me." He paused. "He has to be the rudest person I have ever met." He wasn't wrong there. My fae cousin Claude was totally gorgeous and totally self-absorbed. His social skills were completely non-existent, and I was amazed that Eric had got him to do anything that wasn't directly connected with his own self-interest.

"How did you get him to agree?"

"Claude? I offered him a contract with my film production company in Los Angeles."

Oh. Yeah, that would definitely work. I vaguely remembered seeing something about a film company on the list of Eric's assets, but it was only one in a list of so many other things that I hadn't really registered it.

"What about Niall? What did you have to offer him for the spell?"

He frowned slightly. "Don't ask, Sookie. Suffice it to say that I will be indebted to the prince for some considerable time." His brow cleared. "But it was worth it, to dance with you."

"And why a Frenchman?" My mind was shooting off at tangents all over the place. I was having a real hard time focussing; I think I must have been in shock. Well, hell, after everything that had happened this evening, wouldn't you be?

"This is one of my aliases which Pam is familiar with, so when I contacted her she recognised it immediately. It's an identity I have used before, and I find it convenient. I speak French fluently, so there is no real risk of discovery, and I am particularly proud of the name."

"Why?"

He grinned, and although he looked nothing like Eric, there was a certain 'Eric-y' quality about his expression. It was mischievous, and amused and pretty damn pleased with himself.

"Re-arrange the letters, _ma belle_."

"Re-arrange…you mean it's an _anagram?"_

His grin grew even broader. Definitely proud of himself. "Clever, don't you think? It took me a long time to work that one out. There are not many good combinations for all the letters in Eric Northman."

"Ssshh!" I glanced around hurriedly, hoping that no-one else had caught the name, but we were pretty near the orchestra, and the sound was covered. We had been whispering real quietly, but even so…

"Wait a minute…the blood-bond. Why can't I feel you?"

"I am old enough to control the bond to a certain extent. I can close it down if I wish. But now…" he smiled and re-opened the channel and I closed my eyes in total bliss as the love and comfort and reassurance just poured over me in a healing wave. I was his, totally, and he was mine, and the bond between us was just saturated with emotion as I sent him everything I felt for him. I closed my eyes and I could feel the real Eric holding me close, my head on his shoulder, and I just never wanted this moment to end.

But then the warmth was suddenly cut off again as I heard a familiar and hated voice. I felt Eric draw back from me, both physically and through the bond as Victor tapped him on the shoulder and said, "May I cut in? You have monopolised the lady for long enough."

Damn! We'd been so absorbed in our conversation that Victor had been able to stalk us successfully. He was there, bowing and smiling, and there was nothing we could do but give in, and Eric released me and withdrew, bowing gracefully as he did so. Victor took my hand in his and circled my waist with his other arm. I repressed a shudder. I _really_ hated being this close to him. He began to move me round the room in time to the music, and I cast a glance over his shoulder at Eric/Martin, who stood at the side of the dance-floor, watching us.

"Who was that?" said Madden.

"Oh, some French guy. I didn't catch his name. Cute accent, I thought." I spoke casually, but Victor was still suspicious.

"He appeared to be holding you very closely."

"Well, you know these French types– they're all about the ladies. I didn't think much of his costume, though." I was trying to change the subject, and it worked.

"No, he did not appear to have made very much effort. I have spent months designing my costume, and the time was well spent, I think." His smile was smug as he continued,

"Did you see everyone looking at me during the oath-renewing? All heads turned as I passed."

And quite a few stomachs. However, my Gran always said there are some truths you don't say out loud, no matter how tempted. So I just smiled and said, "how are things in Louisiana?"

"They are improving. I have established my headquarters and it is only a matter of time before all vampires in the area swear fealty to me. Before the year is over, I will have completely subdued all opposition, and Area Five will become even more profitable." I don't know if he believed what he was saying, or if he was trying to convince me, but I knew the truth of the matter. Then he continued.

"You know, Sookie, if you asked him, I am sure the king would permit you to come and visit your old home. He values you, you know." I knew better than he realised what the king thought of me. And I hated him using my name like that. His hand had travelled down from my waist to my butt, and I smiled sweetly and moved it firmly back to its starting-point while I considered what to say. Just then the waltz finished, and I would have turned and left the floor, but he kept his grip on my hand, and I was helpless.

"No, no, my dear, we have barely begun. You shall dance the next one with me. I insist." He pulled me into a close embrace as the band started a slow smooch and I found myself held against him, unable to move away. Damn, he was strong. No matter how much I despised him, I should never, ever forget that he was still a vampire, and I was no match for him in terms of physical strength. One of his hands was firmly in the middle of my back and the other held my wrist in an iron grip Now he was murmuring in my ear about how happy he would be to see me in Louisiana and how he would like to give me the tour of his new area and all the things he'd like to do with me… or to me. His thumb was rubbing my bare back above the scoop neckline of my dress and I could tell he was breathing in my scent, and his suggestions were becoming more and more disgusting, and then I jumped and squeaked, pulling my head back to stare at him in indignation as he bit my ear. His fangs were down and his eyes held a very disturbing look. He made a grab for my breasts and that was when I lost it. Vamp or no, I was not going to put up with this any longer. I brought my knee up between his legs as hard as I possibly could. He let out a high-pitched scream and fell to his knees, his hands between his thighs. I stood glaring at him and breathing deeply. Vamps may heal real fast, but that doesn't mean they can't be hurt, and I sure meant to hurt this little bastard.

"I hope I knocked your balls clean through your hat, you little shit!" I yelled. "How dare you treat me that way!" I turned away intending to march off through the gaping crowd, but once again I had forgotten that he was a vampire, and that meant he was fast. I felt him seize my wrist and yank me back round to face him. He was on his feet again, his eyes glowing and his lips were drawn back in a snarl, showing his fangs. He raised his hand and Pow! Light and pain exploded in my left eye as he backhanded me across the face and my cheekbone shattered. If he hadn't been holding onto my wrist I think I'd have gone clean across the room. As it was, I was knocked off my feet and crumpled into a heap on the floor.

I looked up to see Madden standing there glaring down at me, his face contorted with rage. "Get up, you bitch," he growled and tried to yank me to my feet, but my legs just wouldn't hold me. I was badly scared now; I'd pushed Victor too far and he was out for revenge. King or no king, he was going to hurt me. A lot. I knew it, and cringed and shut my eyes as he drew back his hand to hit me again. But this time the blow didn't land. I opened my eyes, to see Eric/Martin holding Victor's wrist, and Victor struggling to pull free.

"Only a coward strikes a woman, monsieur. You should demonstrate your…courage… on someone of your own mettle. Or perhaps that is why you have chosen a woman? You fear to engage with a man." There was a faint snigger in the crowd. It drove Victor mad.

"Let go of me, you little nobody," he snarled. "You have no idea who you're dealing with!"

"And neither have you," said Eric, and calmly snapped Victor's arm like a stick of celery. I heard the noise, even above the howl of pain and then Eric had tossed him aside and was kneeling beside me, his eyes full of concern. He swiftly bit into his wrist and held it to my mouth.

"Drink, _ma belle_," he said. I thanked him with my eyes and put my lips to the bleeding wounds. I didn't take much, but I could feel the pain receding and my blurred vision cleared. It cleared enough for me to see Victor over Eric's shoulder and I tried to gasp out a warning, but it was too late. He had one of the heavy crystal water-jugs from a nearby table in his hand and before Eric could react he struck him a vicious blow on the back of the head with it and Eric fell forward on top of me, stunned.

There was a gasp from the crowd, which turned to a murmur of surprise as the air around Eric's motionless form started to shimmer. Oh shit, the spell! He couldn't maintain it while he was unconscious, and he was beginning to transform back. There was nothing I could do, and I watched in horror as his outline blurred, and then there was a faintly disgusting squelching noise and I was holding my beautiful Viking in my arms. His eyes were closed and he didn't move.

"Northman!" It was a hiss of astonishment and outrage from Madden as he stared for a second, but then he recovered himself, and yelled, "Guards!" Immediately two of Felipe's bodyguards were there, lifting Eric's body off of me (Weres were no use with an unrestrained vampire). I tried to cling to him but it was futile and they hauled him up by the arms and dragged him to the foot of the dais where Felipe still sat watching the whole scene from his throne. They dropped Eric to the ground, and he lay unmoving. Then Mr Cataliades was beside me, helping me to my feet. I was shivering uncontrollably, and he picked up a long dark cloak that was lying over a nearby chair and draped it round my shoulders. Then he looked around for my purse, and opened it and got out my handkerchief, mopping the blood from my face as I stared at Eric's prostrate form, willing him to get up. Oh thank God, he stirred slightly and groaned. His wound was healing and he lifted his head slowly. Felipe leaned forward and studied him, a tiny smile on his face. "On your knees," he said. Eric looked around him, taking in the guards, and he gradually pulled himself up until he was kneeling before the king.

"You were foolish to return, Viking," said the king. "Under the terms of your sentence your life is forfeit. Immediately." He gestured to his bodyguards, who stepped forward and took hold of Eric's arms, pulling them out to the sides. A third guard drew his sword and stood behind him, arms raised, ready to strike the deathblow. I sobbed in terror, and Mr C grabbed me to prevent me from dashing forward as the king said, "Do you have any last words?"

Eric raised his head until he was looking straight at the king. His voice was weak, but I could just hear him. "Challenge of arms."

"What?" The king was puzzled.

"Challenge of arms," repeated Eric in a louder voice. There was a faint murmur from one or two of the vamps, but the king clearly did not understand. "Ask the lawyer," said Eric.

The king looked around and Mr Cataliades released me and stepped forward.

"Mr Northman is citing an ancient vampire law, your majesty," he said. "Any vampire may challenge the king for the throne if he can prove the king to have broken his part of the oath of fealty, the challenge to take the form of combat."

Felipe frowned. "And how may I be considered to have broken my oath to Northman?" he enquired.

Eric said, "You had me accused of treason. The evidence was faked at your orders. When I swore fealty to you, you swore to repay loyalty with good and fair governance. I have been loyal to you, and yet you framed me in order to acquire the services of my pledged partner. You have broken your oath, and I challenge you according to the law."

"And where is your evidence?" The king sat back, and I knew I had to speak up. He couldn't possible deny the email was faked – too many people knew about it; Pam, Bill, Mr Cataliades. I stepped forward shakily and said, "You admitted it to me earlier this evening." All eyes turned to me, and I continued. "I brought you proof the evidence was faked, and you said you'd had Victor Madden arrange it, so that I'd work for you in exchange for Eric's safety."

Felipe smiled, and looked politely puzzled. "You certainly brought me proof of evidence tampering, but I had no knowledge of it prior to this evening. Sheriff Madden _was_ commissioned to compile the evidence against Northman, and I was as shocked as you to find he had overstepped his authority, in his desire to obtain a conviction. My chamberlains will testify to the fact that I sent for him the instant you showed me the proof. My guards are witnesses to the fact that when he left my presence he was in a state of considerable fear, because of my anger. Can you deny that I was extremely angry with him?"

"No, but…" he interrupted me before I could complete my sentence.

"Sheriff Madden will acknowledge before you all that I had absolutely no knowledge of his behaviour, and therefore cannot possibly be held to have violated my oath. Will you not, Sheriff?" He was looking straight at Victor, who had been standing to one side, whimpering in pain while his broken arm healed. He came forward as the king addressed him and mounted the lower of the two steps leading up to the throne. This raised him above Eric, who was still held kneeling on the ground. There was a silent message of some sort passing between Madden and Felipe, and I had a good idea what was going on. The king was prepared to reward Victor if Victor would take the blame for this, and Victor knew it. He looked over at me, and I had a horrible feeling I knew what he was going to demand in exchange for carrying the can. Oh shit.

"Yes, sire, I take full responsibility for my actions. I regret that my zeal for justice led me to fabricate one small piece of evidence against the Viking, and I will gladly suffer whatever penalty your majesty chooses to impose (yeah, right, a token slap on the wrist!), but I publicly and solemnly swear that you had no knowledge of my actions, and Northman has no grounds for accusing you of breaking your oath to him. He _is_ a traitor and the sentence your majesty passed was absolutely the right sentence for his foul crimes." Here he paused, and spat full in Eric's face.

Eric went berserk, struggling with the vampires who were still holding him, trying to get to Madden, calling him every name under the sun and roaring at him to tell the truth, to stop hiding behind the king and to fight him man to man. He nearly pulled free of the two who held his arms, but the third guard who had been standing with drawn sword all this time, ready to execute Eric on command, reversed his sword and struck Eric hard with the hilt. The blow landed in the same spot where Madden had hit him earlier, re-opening the nearly-healed wound and causing him to pitch forward on his face, allowing the other two guards to pin him to the floor, twisting both his arms behind his back to hold him in place. He still struggled, although dizzy from the blow, and Madden came down the step and kicked him viciously in the ribs, hissing, "you do not command here, Northman! _I_ am a sheriff, and _you_ are a convicted criminal. You have no authority over me!"

"But I have." A cool, aristocratic voice spoke clearly from the crowd behind him and every head turned to see a tall, imposing figure step clear of the guests onto the ballroom floor. It was Edward!


	21. Chapter 21

**OK folks, this is it. The final chapter. I hope you think it's been worth the wait. **

**First, some thanks. **

**Thanks to the fabulous Charlaine Harris who created and owns these wonderful characters. She is the Goddess of the Sookieverse, and I merely worship at her altar.**

**Thanks to Peter for his helpful suggestions when I'd stupidly written myself into a corner.**

**Thanks to you all for your interest, and for staying with me on this rollercoaster – it's been a hell of a journey for me as an author, I don't know about you as readers.**

**Thanks to all those of you who took the time and trouble to send a review. Your input is what kept me chained to the keyboard. **

**Also, thank you for your patience in waiting – this chapter has been a total b**** to write, trying to make sure all the loose ends are tied up. If I've missed anything or failed to answer your questions, please drop me a line and I will try and resolve any remaining queries.**

**That's it for the thanks; now a heartfelt plea.**

**Please, _Please_, _PLEASE _ review. Review the chapter or the whole story or both, even if you've never done so before – tell me what you thought of my Eric or my Sookie, or the plot, or the style or the structure or the lemons or…whatever! **

**I really would appreciate it – it makes all the effort worthwhile, it improves my writing and if enough people like what I've done, it might encourage me to try a new story. **

**(incidentally, if anyone has any good ideas for a plot, drop me a PM**** ) :)**

**OK. 'Nuff said. Now read on…**

Edward! The English vampire had made it, after all, but what did he mean? I gaped at him in astonishment, but my reaction was nothing compared to Victor's. He spun round at the sound of Edward's voice, his jaw dropping, his eyes staring in disbelief. Edward continued,

"You will kneel, child," and Victor's knees hit the floor as though someone had kicked his feet out from under him.

Child? _Child? _My mind reeled. Edward was Victor's _maker? _I couldn't believe it, but that was the only possible explanation for what I was seeing. And the more I looked at them, the more I could see it. No wonder I had unaccountably thought of Victor when I first met Lord Eskham! All Victor's attempts at gracious manners and elegant behaviour were an attempt to copy what came so naturally to his maker, but he could only achieve a pale imitation of the original. Edward walked forward now, the focus of all eyes. He was dressed as a Roman emperor, in a white tunic and purple toga, and with a gold laurel-wreath on his dark hair. He ignored his kneeling child, and bowed to the king.

"Your majesty, please forgive my tardy arrival this evening, but my flight was unavoidably delayed. I had heard from the Northman here about my erring child's activities, and I came to Nevada to see for myself, and now that I am here, I find that it is even worse than I had feared. Victor's greed and ambition appear to have grown quite out of control. With your permission, I shall deal with him immediately." He bowed again, and Felipe had no option but to incline his head in gracious assent. Although Lord Eskham had requested permission, it was only a courtesy. No-one could deny a maker the right to discipline his child. When Ocella had turned up in Shreveport, Eric had explained to me that vampires belonged entirely to the one who turned them, and that _no-one_ could interfere between them – not even the king. Edward could torture or kill Victor, and no-one would say a word.

Edward finally turned and looked down at Victor who lowered his eyes to the floor and licked his lips nervously.

"Master…I…" his voice tailed away in the face of Edward's stern silence. Finally Edward spoke, but it was to me.

"Madam, I cannot tell you how deeply ashamed I am that any child of mine should sink so low as to raise his hand to a woman. I beg you to believe that he did not learn such behaviour from me. It is apparent that he has forgotten everything I taught him, and I shall have to consider his re-education very carefully. But first, he will apologise to you. Will you not, Victor?" This wasn't really a question.

Madden looked at his maker, and then at me, but he couldn't resist the compulsion to obey. "Yes, master," he said, and began to rise to his feet.

"You will beg the lady's forgiveness on your knees, Victor." Eskham's voice was gentle, but Victor sank back to his knees immediately. He looked at me again, and nearly choked with the effort but he started to mutter something.

"I cannot hear you, Victor." Again the quiet voice prodded him, and he cleared his throat and continued in a louder voice.

"Madam, I…I deeply regret that I so forgot myself as to strike you, and I beg that you will forgive me for my…ungentlemanly behaviour. I swear to you that it will not happen again." There was a suggestion of gritted teeth about it, but I nodded graciously; I was still a lady, whatever he was.

Lord Eskham bowed to me and said, "I thank you, my dear Mrs Northman, for forgiving him. It is more than he deserves, but you are as generous as you are brave and beautiful. And now, my child," turning back to Victor, "You will tell the truth regarding the fabrication of evidence against Mr Northman. You will tell all of us, and you will do so _now." _The last word was like the crack of a whip, and Victor jumped. Immediately, he said, "I faked all the evidence against Eric Northman. I glamoured the witnesses and later had them killed." He stopped, but Edward was not stupid. He looked at Felipe, whose face was a frozen mask, while his hands gripped the arms of his throne, his fangs fully extended. He knew he was trapped, but he could not stop what was happening. It was too public. All he could do was wait for the words, and here they came.

"And did you do this on your own authority?"

"No, master. The king commanded it." The words were torn from him, but were clearly audible, and there was a shocked murmur from the crowd.

"Why did his majesty do this?"

"He wished to acquire the telepath and Northman was in the way." Victor's eyes were closed in mental agony as he tried to withstand his maker's influence, but he was completely powerless. He saw his career and future prosperity (and possibly his life) going out the window and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Thank you, Victor. Go and wait for me over by the wall. You will not speak without permission." Victor rose to his feet, bowed shakily to the king, not daring to meet his eyes, bowed deeply to his maker, and made his way slowly in the direction Edward had indicated. The guests moved back, making a lane for him to pass through, until he was standing with his back to the wall, eyes closed, not daring to move.

Attention then shifted from him back to the king. Mr Cataliades stepped forward and said simply, "it seems that there are grounds for Mr Northman's challenge, your majesty."

The king was silent for a few minutes, and then said, " Bring me the statute book. I wish to see this law for myself." Mr C bowed and left the room, and the king gestured to his guards to release Eric, who had been pinned to the ground by three vampires during this entire scene. They stepped back and he rose to his feet, dusting his knees as he did so. Then he looked across at me, and I ran to him and he folded me in his embrace, looking down at me with that dear smile that I so loved to see. His clothes now fit him perfectly, and boy, he looked good enough to eat. I'd never seen him dressed as a Viking before but I just _loved_ it. It was so _him! _

"Are you sure you're alright, min älskade?" he murmured, running the back of his hand across my cheek where Victor had hit me.

"I'm fine, baby; how's your head?" I stroked his hair, feeling the dampness where his blood had matted at the back of his skull, but there was no trace of an injury.

"It is of no consequence. It will not hamper me at all in the challenge." His eyes glowed and his fangs extended slightly. Eric loved a fight, and I could tell he was really psyched up for this one.

"Are you sure you don't want to feed, even a little bit? You know my blood might help," I whispered.

"That is an offer I would never refuse, Sookie," he said, and he brought my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers and then planting a kiss in the palm before gently placing his fangs on my wrist. I barely felt it as they pierced, and he drank briefly, his blue eyes all the while on mine. When he had finished, he slowly licked my wrist, but the marks were already healing thanks to the blood that I'd had from him only a few minutes before.

He kissed my fingers again, then he looked up as Mr C came back into the ballroom carrying a leather-bound volume. Eric drew me back away from the king, to the side of the room, and stood with his arm protectively around me. I put my arm around his waist, holding on as tightly as I could. I wasn't going to leave him for a second, if I didn't have to.

The lawyer handed the book to the king and pointed out the relevant passage to him. The king studied it for a few minutes, and quietly asked one or two questions of the lawyer and Sandy, his lieutenant. Mr C hesitated and then answered him equally quietly and the three of them had a brief discussion. Although I strained to hear, I couldn't make out what he was saying, and from the look on Eric's face, he couldn't either.

At last the king nodded and handed the book back to Mr Cataliades, who bowed and descended the steps. Felipe then stood up, and said,

"It seems I have no choice but to accept the challenge issued by Eric Northman, former Sheriff of Area Five. There will be a combat. _But…" _he held up his hand for silence as an excited murmur ran round the assembled guests. "I claim my right to name a champion or champions to fight for me."

Eric tensed, and looked over at the lawyer, who looked regretful, but said, "In such a case both parties may appoint others to fight on their behalf, if they so wish. The provision was historically intended to ensure that weaker vampires still had an opportunity for redress, by nominating other, stronger vampires as their champions. Mr Northman, I must ask you formally, do you wish to name a champion or champions to fight on your behalf?"

Eric's chin went up. "No. I have no need of a champion."

Mr C turned to Felipe. "Your majesty, do you wish to name a champion or champions to fight on your behalf?"

The king sat back on his throne, a wolfish smile on his face.

"Yes. I name…my bodyguard."

"Which one, your majesty?"

"_All of them."_

Wwwhhhaaattt? All twelve? Surely he couldn't do that!

Startled, Eric looked across at the lawyer, who appeared equally surprised, and rapidly turned up the law again in his book. He studied it for some minutes, before saying,

"It would appear his majesty has chosen an unusual but valid interpretation of the law. The spirit of the law would be for numbers to be equal on both sides, each champion to come forward in turn, but there is no clause expressly forbidding many champions to engage one opponent simultaneously. I am sorry, Mr Northman, but he is within the letter of the law."

The cunning s-o-b. I looked at the lawyer reproachfully. "Mr Cataliades, I thought you were on our side._"_

At that he drew himself up. "No, Mrs Northman; I am on the side of _the law._ The king is within his rights and, while I may not approve his conduct, I am sworn to interpret and apply the law impartially. Mr Northman has formally waived his right to a champion, and so he must either fight the king's champions or withdraw the challenge. There is nothing more I can do." He closed the book and stepped back.

I looked at Eric, as he gazed stony-faced at Felipe who was smiling sardonically.

"Eric…" I whispered, desperately.

He didn't look at me.

"I will fight," he said.

"Eric! !" this time it was more of a wail than a whisper and now he looked down at me. His eyes were glowing and his fangs were extended and he seized me to him, bending me backwards as though we were still dancing, and ravished my lips with a Viking's kiss. Oh, wow! Mr Testosterone or what? ! ? I felt giddy, and staggered slightly as he returned me to the vertical, and he steadied me, and smiled. But this was not a tender, loving smile. This was the smile he wore in battle. I'd seen it before, and it was bad news for someone.

"Don't worry, min lilla fru. I can do this." Then he turned away from me, bowed his head to the king and walked to the middle of the floor, where he removed his tunic and long leather boots, tossing them to one side. Everyone in the room moved back as far as they possibly could, leaving the floor clear, and Eric stood there, alone, his arms folded across his broad chest, waiting. Oh man, he was gorgeous! Now he was wearing nothing but black pants, you could see every muscle on his sculpted torso. He just should not be allowed to walk around without a shirt on; he was a danger to traffic. I wanted to hurl myself across the room and rub myself against him, but instead I crossed the floor to the dais, to stand near Felipe's throne. If anything went wrong, I had my own plans.

Eric watched me go and nodded in approval. He obviously didn't want me anywhere near the combat zone. The king gestured, and the six bodyguards who had been standing motionless behind the throne all this time filed down the stairs onto the ballroom floor, and they were joined by the three who had held Eric and the other three who had been scoping the room throughout the evening. They formed a circle around Eric, and for the first time I realised that they were going to use their swords! I thought this was hand-to-hand stuff!

"But that's not fair! Eric doesn't even have a weapon!" All eyes turned to me as I spoke, and Mr Cataliades said, "the rules of combat state that anything in the room at the time of the challenge may be used as a weapon. Mr Northman has not yet chosen whatever he wishes to use."

I looked over at Eric, who looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Eric?" I couldn't believe he wasn't going to grab something, anything! "There's Victor's cane over there. Why not take that?"

He shook his head. "Trust me, Sookie. I have no need a weapon."

Dammit, and he called me stubborn! He was going to die because of his stupid vampire pride!

The twelve vampires brought their swords to the attack position, and Eric was surrounded by a ring of steel. They were all going to attack him at once! I could hardly bear to watch, but my eyes were glued to the spectacle in horror.

Felipe leaned forward and said one word;

"kill."

The twelve vampires instantly surged forward, but Eric launched himself upwards into flight at blinding speed, somersaulted in the air and landed behind one of his attackers. He broke the man's neck with a quick twist, snatched the sword from the suddenly limp grasp and took the head off with one blow, catching the neck of the man next to him on the backswing before his first victim's corpse had even hit the floor. From then on, it was like watching a dance; a dance of death. I'd seen Eric practise with his swords, and it had been beautiful to see him as he moved; I had been amazed at how a guy as big as he was could be so graceful and light on his feet, but that had been practice. This was the real thing, and Eric was a blur of fluid speed and strength, his sword catching the light as it swung in graceful, deadly curves, blood fountaining in its wake. He spun and twisted, ducked and leaped; the air was full of screams, war-cries and the hiss of steel, plus more sickening sounds as his sword found its targets one by one, but Eric was completely silent, focussed. His face was almost serene, his eyes sky-filled, his mouth smiling. He was doing what he was born to do, and in less than five minutes there was only one guard left, standing still with his sword at the ready, shaking, knowing that blond, blue-eyed death was stalking him.

Eric showed his fangs as he moved towards his last enemy with feral grace. The young vampire tried very hard. He parried Eric's first thrust, and then gaining a little in confidence initiated an attack of his own. He forced the Viking back one pace and grinned, but Eric had only taken the step back in order to pick up another sword, and then he advanced again, moving both of them hypnotically in front of him in a shining blur of steel. The guard stepped back a pace, drew desperate courage from somewhere and letting out a loud cry hurled himself at Eric, his sword raised. Eric's swords moved at blinding speed and in a double-handed arc he sliced through the young man's neck the body continuing in its forward motion for half a step before it fell, as though it hadn't realised what had happened, the head bouncing towards the crowd like some hideous football. The guests shrank back as it came to rest under one of the tables, and Eric turned towards us, an expression of calm triumph on his face. He was surrounded by rapidly decomposing bodies, he was streaked with blood from head to foot and his arms were reddened to the elbows. His nostrils flared at the scent and he began to advance on the king, but suddenly Felipe was on his feet, behind me, holding both my arms through the borrowed cloak in a grip of steel. Oh shit, I couldn't reach my purse! He was holding me too tightly!

"Surrender, Northman, or I will snap her in half." I struggled and he shook me viciously, saying, "I mean it. Drop the swords or she dies." He was standing behind me so that Eric would have to come through me to get to him.

Eric looked at me, and I shook my head silently. He paused for a long moment, and then opened his hands, allowing the blades to fall to the floor.

Felipe sneered, "I was wrong my dear. Apparently there _are_ vampires stupid enough to voluntarily sacrifice themselves for the sake of another. I thought only humans were weak enough to do that." His voice sharpened. "Now surrender."

"Eric, don't," I whispered, but he was no longer looking at me. He was looking straight at Felipe. I looked round, desperately. The courtiers and Sandy were all staring at the king, in shock. I don't think they could believe that he was so doing this so publicly. I was pretty damn sure they were used to him intriguing and plotting behind the scenes, but to show his hand so openly I think he must have been desperate. I guess seeing your entire bodyguard wiped out would do that.

Mr Cataliades spoke up. "Your majesty, I must protest. Mr Northman has defeated your champions and…"

"But he has not defeated me!" Felipe snarled. "Any weapons in the room are acceptable in the combat, yes?"

"That is correct," the lawyer conceded.

"Well, _this_ is my weapon of choice!" He shook me again, his grip tightening painfully. I was going to have some incredible bruises in the morning. If I survived till morning.

Eric came to a decision. "Release her and I will submit," he said.

Felipe laughed shortly. "Don't think me as big a fool as yourself, Northman. You will submit _before_ I release her."

Eric hesitated for a moment and then stepped over the decaying bodies and walked slowly, wearily to the foot of the dais, where he dropped to his knees and bowed his golden head. I couldn't believe he was going to do this for me, but he was.

Felipe released me and seated himself again. He looked down at Eric. "It's over, Northman," he said. Then he called to the Were guards, "Chain him, and then take him to the Custody Suite." The Were head of security sent two of his men quickly from the room to pick up a set of vampire-proof chains. Felipe stared round the room, defying anyone to raise an objection. He spoke again, his words holding a world of threat. "I think I shall create a new Level Nine programme, specially for those who challenge their king." A shudder passed through Eric at these words, but he did not raise his head. Felipe knew that his announcement would send a very clear message to the assembled sheriffs; any attempt to oppose his authority, no matter how justified, would be punished mercilessly. Eric's fate would be a hideous example for them all. Through the bond I felt his despair as he anticipated the agony awaiting him, and I couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn't let him go back there. I had to do something, and this was my last chance, before the guards came back and he was chained with silver. I decided to risk everything on one last throw of the dice. If it didn't work, we were no worse off.

"Your majesty, please may I say goodbye to him? Please?"

"I think not, my dear."

I took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. "Sire, you said you preferred willing bed-mates. If you give me just two minutes with Eric, I swear will do anything you want, willingly. _Absolutely anything."_

"Sookie, no!" Eric's voice was full of anguish as he heard my words, but I didn't look at him. I was focussed on Felipe. He was considering my offer. I was hoping he would decide that a co-operative lover was certainly more enjoyable than one who fought you tooth and nail (unless you were a pervert like Victor, of course). Then he decided.

"Two minutes, then, but he may not touch you."

"Pardon me?" I had no idea what he meant.

"You are no longer his. You are mine, and I will not have my pets handled by another. If he touches you, you will suffer for it." He smiled cruelly and I stared at him, looking for some hint of compassion in his eyes. I should have known better, and my own eyes filled with tears. Then I pulled myself together.

"The clock is ticking, my dear," he reminded me, and I quickly opened my purse and got my handkerchief out, mopping my eyes. I descended the steps to where Eric knelt.

"Sookie, don't do this!" The pain in his eyes cut me to the heart, but I was determined.

"Trust me, Eric." I put all the significance I could into those words. Then I said, "There's blood on your face, honey. Here, use this." And I gave him my handkerchief, damp with my tears. He looked at me in puzzlement, and my eyelid flickered just a fraction. I was sending reassurance through the bond as hard as I could, and he glanced down at the lacy scrap of fabric in his hand before looking back up at me. Something flared in his eyes just for a second and then he slowly raised the handkerchief and passed it across his face before crumpling it up in his large hand. Then I took his face in my hands and kissed him for all I was worth. This was not Eric touching me, this was me touching Eric. Felipe hadn't said anything about that. Eric raised his hands as though to put his arms around me, but remembered Felipe's words and they dropped back to his sides. While my lips were on his, I breathed a short sentence into his mouth, knowing he would hear it. We had communicated like this once before, in Bon Temps, when I had needed to tell him something I didn't want anyone else to hear.

Then Felipe said, "Your two minutes are up, my dear," and I pulled away. There was no point prolonging this. We had to make our move before the Weres came back. Once he was chained, we were done for. I said, "We have to say goodbye, baby and _this is our only chance." _Again, I loaded the words with meaning, gazing into his eyes, and he nodded his understanding. I stepped back and went back up the steps to where Felipe had resumed his throne. This time, I stood well to the side.

Eric clasped his hands in front of him, and I saw him shift his bare feet slightly. He was seeking a good grip for his toes. He was ready. I turned to the king, and said,

"Excuse me, your majesty, I have a question."

"What is it, my dear?" Felipe turned his head to look at me and in that instant there was a blur of speed and motion as Eric hurled himself forward up the steps, his right hand connecting with Felipe's bare chest, his left hand on the kings shoulder, yanking him forward as hard as he could, holding him in place for a second, and then releasing him.

Felipe let out a bellow of agony, before looking down in utter astonishment at his ribcage. There was a wound immediately over the heart, but there was nothing visible protruding from it. That didn't surprise me. The obnoxious human guard who'd frisked me earlier this evening had been quite right; four inches in the right place was enough. And a wooden popsicle stick that had been carefully sharpened using the nail-file from the manicure kit in the ladies' room was just over four inches long. I had passed it to Eric wrapped in my handkerchief; as a warrior he knew exactly where to place it so it slid between the ribs, and with the full force of his arm behind it, it had disappeared right into Felipe's chest cavity, reaching and piercing his black heart. Felipe lifted his head, staring at Eric. "How…?" he managed to say and then as we watched, blood started to pour out of his mouth, and his eyes dulled, before his face kind of caved in and his body collapsed sideways, falling from the black and gold throne. Eric thrust it to the side with his foot, so that it slid down the steps and lay there turning into goo. Then he drew himself to his full height, mounted the steps and, standing in front of the throne, raised his bloodstained arms to the ceiling, put his head back and let out a great war-cry of triumph that echoed round the room and was probably heard in Vegas.

Then he lowered his arms and looked slowly round the room, waiting to see if anyone would say or do anything. Not a muscle moved. Not a breath stirred. Power and authority just poured off him. In a ringing voice he said,

"Hear me! I am Eric Northman, and I claim this throne by right of arms! Are there any here who would challenge me?" Not surprisingly, the silence was unbroken. Then he said, "I hereby assume the kingship of Louisiana. I have no interest in the kingdoms of Nevada and Arkansas. You may divide them as you wish." There was a faint murmur from the guests, and I had to admire my honey's statecraft. He knew he could not hold three kingdoms together right now, and he also knew that the power-struggle he'd just ignited amongst the vamps of Nevada and Arkansas would keep them off his back for decades while he consolidated his position in Louisiana and learned his new job. By the time a viable king or queen had emerged, he would have restored his own kingdom to full strength and would be able to fight off any potential takeovers in the future. Unless he decided he wanted the two other kingdoms back, of course, in which case I'd put money on him getting them.

Then, he turned to the shocked chamberlains, whose duty had kept them on the dais all evening in case the king needed anything. "You." He pointed to one of them, who started shaking uncontrollably at being singled out. "Fetch me water. And then fetch my cloak and boots."

"Yes, your…your majesty," said the unfortunate vampire and at vampire speed he brought Eric two crystal water-jugs from the tables and then went back for the boots and the huge wolfskin cloak, which he'd discarded before dancing with me as Martin. Everyone watched in complete silence as Eric poured the water over his chest, arms and hands, and tore down the black and gold banner that had hung over Felipe's throne to dry himself off. Then he pulled his boots on and carefully spread his own cloak over the throne. While he was doing that, I removed my cloak and dropped it over what had been Felipe (I'm not sure the real owner was gonna want it back now, come to think of it). Then I bent and picked up the Celtic gold and amber circlet which had fallen from Felipe's head as he died and which had landed on one of the steps. Eric then seated himself on the wolf-skin draped throne and I moved to stand in front of him on the bottom step. I curtseyed low (a real beauty - I was _so _glad I'd learned how to do this properly; there were a lot of folks watching) and held up the circlet to him in both hands. He took it from me, and slowly and solemnly set it on his golden hair, where it gleamed richly. He looked every inch a king, and my heart swelled with pride as I resumed my place next to his throne.

He looked round the room again, and said, "Louisiana vampires who wish to live, will offer me fealty." No question of a year to make up your mind when there was a new king; it was swear loyalty or die. Eric had learned that lesson in Felipe's takeover of Louisiana over a year ago. There was a blur of movement, and Pam was kneeling at his feet, first in line as you'd expect. She bowed her head. "Master," she said. Eric leaned forward and extended his right hand to her. She took it in hers, kissed it and raised it to her forehead. Holding it there she said in a clear voice, "I, Pamela Ravenscroft, hereby pledge loyalty and obedience to you as my king, until final death." Then she kissed his hand once more and released it. Eric smiled, and said, "I accept your pledge and accept you as my subject. Know that I will repay obedience with favour, loyalty with good and fair governance and oath-breaking with vengeance. And as my first act of kingship, and in thanks for your assistance, I hereby appoint you the new Sheriff of Area Five." Pam looked up in pleased astonishment, and bowed her head again in thanks before moving to one side to allow Bill to kneel and offer his pledge. Eric thanked Bill too for his help, and it turned out that Bill had been more use than I had thought; He hadn't just helped with the encrypted documents, he'd also been responsible for tracing Victor's maker through his database, at Eric's request. I'd always thought Bill's little project was more of a gimmick than anything, but I guess I was wrong about that!

By now, quite a line of Louisiana vamps and other well-wishers had formed in front of the dais, and Eric received all their pledges and congratulations, while down on the dance-floor teams from Domestic Services had been summoned to clear away the remains of the late king and his bodyguards. They'd almost completely disintegrated by now, so it didn't take too long. There were crowds of people in the doorways, as word had spread of what had happened, and people from all over the complex were coming to see the new king, jostling each other in their efforts to get a good look.

At last, the line ended and Eric beckoned to someone in the crowd, "Cummings, bring me the box I gave you earlier." To my surprise, Matt Cummings stepped forward from his place by the wall. He was carrying a beautiful jewelled casket and he brought it to the bottom of the steps, before bowing and handing it to Eric. He bowed again and was about to back away, when Eric stopped him.

"I have to thank you for your assistance to Sookie in Mexico, Cummings. You have proved brave and faithful. Would you be willing to become my new head of security in Louisiana? I need a man I can trust." Matt stared in surprise, and said, "I don't know your majesty, uh, my wife…"

Eric nodded. "Naturally, you will need to consult with her before making such a decision. Take your time and let me know when you have decided. Your family will, of course, be welcome." He dismissed Matt and then, at last, he turned to me. I had stayed quiet and in the background while he was doing important vamp stuff, but I had started to wonder when he was going to acknowledge me. It had been a hell of an evening, and I was beginning to feel the need of a chair.

Eric took my hand, and led me to stand at the top of the steps, speaking to everyone there. "I stand before you as king of Louisiana, and I acknowledge that I could not have done this without a great many people's help," he said. "Some I have thanked, and some I have yet to thank, but this human woman deserves far more than my thanks. She has proven herself loyal, courageous, resourceful and selfless. She has endured hardship, fear, loneliness, grief and great pain. She has sacrificed herself and risked her life over and over again for the sake of the great love she bears me. Is there anyone here who believes she is not worthy to be my Queen?" No-one said a word. I couldn't speak.

He turned to me, and said, "My dearest, more than a year ago, I tricked you into pledging yourself to me with a ceremonial knife. I did it for your protection, but I here acknowledge that I was wrong to trick you, and I ask your pardon for it. I should have told you what I intended to do. My deception led to misunderstandings between us, which I bitterly regret, and it took many months and the threat of separation before you could bring yourself to fully acknowledge our relationship." I started to protest, but he continued, "this was my fault, not yours, and it is my heart's desire to put that right." Here he opened the box, and unfolded the black velvet that was inside. He drew out the ceremonial jewelled knife that I had last seen on that night in his office in Fangtasia, when he had tricked me. Giving it to Matt must have been the only way to get it through the weapons ban.

Setting the box aside, he went down on one knee. My eyes opened wide in astonishment. This was Eric Northman, kneeling to a human! In public! "Sookie," he said, his vivid blue eyes intent on mine, his face completely serious. "many people have pledged their loyalty to me this evening. Now it is my turn to pledge my loyalty, my love and my life to you. If you will do me the honour of accepting them, I swear you will never have cause to regret it." And he bowed his golden head, offering the knife to me in both hands, waiting for me to take it, which would be the sign of a formal pledge. I could feel his love and sincerity pouring through the bond, and just a hint of anxiety. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure of my response, but he needn't have worried. I reached out and took the knife and slowly raised it to my lips, kissing the blade before giving it back to him. We were pledged again. We were one again. I watched the smile grow on his face and it was like watching the sun rise. He carefully placed the knife back in its box before rising to his full magnificent height, and then the bond exploded with love and joy and I was in his arms and my arms were round his neck and he lifted me clean off the floor and his mouth was on mine. He was my Eric and I was his Sookie and we were together and we would never be separated again.

Our kiss seemed to go on for ever, as we were lost in each other, and it was only very gradually that I became aware of a rising sound. It got louder and louder and at last I identified it. It was the sound of clapping and cheering. Vampires clapping and cheering! That was just so weird - it wasn't something vampires did, but I guess the human guests started it and the vamps just got carried away. At last Eric pulled away, and I could see a distinct glow in his eyes. I got the feeling he wasn't going to prolong the business of the evening much further.

He put me down and released me, before saying, "bring a chair for the Queen." He turned back to me and said, "we will have a suitable throne brought in for you tomorrow, my love."

"Eric, that is really not necessary," I hissed. You can really hiss the word necessary – lots of esses. He got that stubborn look.

"You are my Queen. You will be seated at my side, and my subjects will offer you their fealty as they offered it to me." I looked at him and I could tell I was not going to win this one. And besides, I wasn't about to make him look bad in front of his subjects – not on his first night as king.

"Yes, your majesty," I said, and he cocked an eyebrow at me suspiciously. He didn't trust me when I was docile. "Seriously, Eric. If you think it's necessary, then I'll go along with it. My Gran always said that a little give and take is a good thing in any relationship, as long as it's not all giving on one side and all taking on the other."

He smiled. "Your Grandmother was a very wise woman. I wish I could have met her."

"She would have loved you."

"Really?" he was surprised.

"Yup – she was real big on anything historical or antique."

"Sookie, are you calling me an antique?" His lips quirked up in a lop-sided smile, but just then the chamberlains arrived with my chair, which they set next to his throne, and that distracted him. We both sat down ( I was never more glad to do so) and he moved on to the next item of business.

I had noticed the Were guards who had been sent to fetch the chains arriving back some little time ago. They hadn't expected a change of government while they were out of the room, and when they saw Eric on the throne, receiving fealty, they had looked at each other, discreetly disposed of the chains and slid unobtrusively into their places along the wall, hoping the new king wouldn't notice them. Some hope. He now looked over at them, and beckoned. They came forward, very slowly.

"Where are the chains you were sent to fetch?" said Eric. His voice had lost all trace of humour.

"Uh, just outside the door, sire," said one of them.

"Bring them."

He waited in silence while they did so.

"Now, bring me Madden."

Ah. This was not going to be pretty.

They took his meaning at once, hurried over to where Victor was still standing against the wall, and locked the leather-covered silver around his wrists and ankles. He was almost ready to faint as it was, and they had to put their hands under his arms and half-carry him to where Eric awaited him, frowningly.

When they released him, he fell to his knees, not daring to look up. Eric looked around until he saw the person he was seeking.

"Lord Eskham." He beckoned to the English vampire, who stepped forward and bowed courteously.

"It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh at last, Eskham, and I must thank you for your assistance earlier this evening." said Eric.

Edward smiled. "The pleasure is mine, your majesty, and may I be the first vampire from the English kingdoms to congratulate both your majesties on your accession."

Wow – majesties. That meant me! That was gonna take some getting used to for an all-American girl.

Eric said, "the Queen has told me of your recent injuries, and I am glad to see you fully recovered from them."

"I trust the Queen also told you that it is thanks to her bravery that I was able to be here to help you this evening. I am also delighted to observe that she is now healed in full." He smiled at me and I blushed.

"It was nothing, really. I just happened to be there."

"A great many other people were also there, your majesty, but you were the only one prepared to risk her life for another, and again I thank you. Please be assured that you may command me, or my services, at any time."

Thinking back to the night I'd first met him, something occurred to me. If he had come to Nevada to deal with Victor, why hadn't he done it then, when I'd met him and he'd told me he'd been staying with Bill? Well, only one way to find out, so I asked him straight out. Edward looked a little startled at my direct approach, and Eric smiled behind his hand; He would have gone about getting the same information in a very different way, I guess, but if he'd wanted subtle, he shouldn't have married me. I don't do subtle. Anyway, it worked, so what's the problem?

Edward said, "I am in America on business for my own king, your majesty, and his affairs had to take precedence over mine. It was while I was in Peru that his majesty (indicating Eric) contacted me through Mr Compton, and gave me some very disturbing information about Victor. I took the opportunity to stop off in Louisiana and Nevada, and found the situation to be as the king had described it, but I could not stay long enough to deal with it. However, as soon as I had completed my king's commissions, and was at liberty to do so, I hurried back. I am just grateful that I arrived in time."

He turned back to Eric, "And now, may I ask how your majesty proposes to deal with my child?"

Eric considered, while Victor shook with terror. The next few seconds would seal his fate and he knew it. At last Eric spoke. "His offences against me and mine are many, and grave, but he is your child, to do with as you choose. I will leave his fate to you."

Lord Eskham bowed again. "He is, as you say, mine to do with as I choose. And I choose…to give him to you. He is yours." Vampire makers had the right to pass their children on to other people if they wished, and Edward's words meant that Eric was now regarded as Victor's maker, with everything that implied.

"NO!" This was a cry from Victor, as he realised what Edward had just done. He threw himself at Edward's feet, clutching at his shoes, "Please master, no, don't give me to him, please, I'll do anything, I'll come back to England with you, anything, please master, please don't…" his voice trailed off into sobs. I looked away. He really was pathetic.

"Victor, I wish I could believe you, but I am not sure that there is anything I can do to correct your behaviour. I suspect my ideas are too old-fashioned." I wondered just how old Edward was. It was impossible to tell. "However, his majesty may have more success than I – he is a vampire of great experience and…imagination, and I am sure he will be able to devise some fitting and effective means of discipline. You are his. Goodbye, Victor." He bowed again to Eric and then me, and withdrew, leaving Victor kneeling in terror before his new master.

Eric leaned forward, his fangs extended, his eyes burning.

"Do you have anything to say, Madden?" his voice was cold.

"I was only obeying orders – Felipe made me do it…" it wasn't much of a defence, but I guess he didn't have a better one. It didn't wash with Eric.

"Only obeying orders…Hmmm. I seem to remember hearing that phrase somewhere before," mused Eric. "Now where was it…? Oh yes, the Nuremberg trials. As I recall, it was not considered an adequate defence then, and it certainly isn't an adequate defence now. No, I have just the thing for you, Madden. I believe the late unlamented king was planning an entirely new level of 'rehabilitation' in the Custody Suite – level nine, I think he said. You shall have the honour of being the first to experience it, and as you said to me, I shall spend many happy hours on the catwalk above, observing your education. Now, get him out of my sight. Cell Eighteen." The Were guards hauled Victor to his feet and hustled him out of the room. We could hear his terrified sobbing getting fainter and fainter until at last everything was silent again, and Eric sat back, satisfied.

"I believe that concludes all business for the evening," he announced. "Ladies, and gentlemen, please continue to enjoy yourselves, but her majesty and I are going to retire. It has been a long night, and we need some time to ourselves." He gestured to the orchestra to start playing again, and then he stood up, and all the vamps in the room knelt to him. He looked pleased. I think he quite enjoyed all this ceremony. He turned to me, and held out his hand. I placed mine in his and he led me from the dais and out through the doors, waiting until they were closed behind us before picking me up and hugging me.

"And now, min älskade, we have some unfinished business of our own. Where are your rooms?"

I pointed. "Down that way. But Eric…"

He was carrying me in the direction I had indicated. "Yes, my heart?"

"We have to go outside first."

"Outside? Why?"

"We have to go and thank Niall. He said he'd be waiting for us in the garden."

"In the garden? How can he…?"

"It's not really him, it's a, a _projection_, I think he called it. He saw me there earlier this evening and gave me the idea for the popsicle stick."

"I see." He was thoughtful. "Then I suppose we do owe him our thanks. What is the quickest way to the garden from here?"

"Put me down and I'll show you." He simply tightened his grip.

"If you think I am letting you out of my arms for one second for the rest of the night, you are very much mistaken. Just tell me the way."

"Eric, put me down, this is not dignified. You're the king; You can't be seen carrying the queen around the residence like a…like a…" I couldn't think of a comparison, so I just repeated, "put me down, Eric!" I wriggled to get free, but I might just as well have saved my strength.

"Mmmm. Keep wriggling, Sookie, that feels wonderful."

"Ohhh, you…you bad vampire, you!" He grinned and I gave up and pointed out the quickest route to the elevators which avoided the ballroom. He chose the stairs instead, using my keycard to open the security gates that normally locked them shut, and going up all five flights at vampire speed, through the foyer and out into the grounds, where he finally stopped, but still wouldn't put me down.

We both looked up at the stars for a few minutes and then at each other, and shared a kiss, before he carried me to my favourite spot by the pool. He did agree to put me down when we got there, but insisted on holding onto my hand. It felt like he didn't want to let me out of his sight, and I knew exactly how he felt. It was hard to believe it was all over and that we were together again. Somehow, the physical contact was reassuring to both of us.

We stood on the grass by the pool, and then I felt pretty stupid, because I didn't know what to do next. How do you summon a fairy prince?

"Well," said Eric, "where is he?"

"I don't know, he said he'd be here." I looked into the water, but nothing moved, and I shrugged. Then I felt Eric's big hands on my shoulders and he turned me round to face him. His voice was husky and he was smiling as I looked up into his face, which was glowing faintly, as all vamps do in the dark.

"Well, I do not intend to waste time while we are waiting for him to show up. I have _much _better things to do." And he drew me to him and lowered his head until his lips met mine softly.

Oh boy. Mmmmm.

"_I see you took my advice, Sookie."_

Oh, shoot. Niall. I drew back from Eric and he looked a little surprised, and then I realised he hadn't heard the voice – it was in my head. I answered out loud as I turned around. Eric released me from his embrace, but he still wouldn't let go my hand as we moved to the edge of the water.

"Niall, can you speak so Eric can hear you, please?"

"Of course, my child." His image was clearly visible in the water again as he nodded to Eric in greeting. "Eric." Eric nodded back.

"Niall." This was a change. They'd always been very distant in the past, using surnames only, or more often "fairy" and "vampire". I guess it reflected my honey's new status as king. I was pleased about that, but I wondered for a second how Niall had picked up on it, and then I realised; the diadem. Eric was still wearing it.

"Grandfather, we came to thank you. Your plan worked; Felipe's dead and Eric's the new king of Louisiana."

"I trust he intends to make you his Queen?" It was difficult to tell with a reflection that kept shifting, but it seemed to me that Niall's gaze became more piercing as he looked at Eric.

"I have already done so." Eric squeezed my hand gently.

"I am glad to hear it. See that you treat her as she deserves, or I will require a reckoning."

Eric's head went up. His pride had been offended.

"I do not need you to tell me how to care for Sookie," he said.

"And yet it was not you who cared for her when she was so badly burned."

Eric's fangs came out. "Had I been here I would have healed her instantly! As I have done in the past, more times than you know!"

Ah oh. This was not good. Niall's image in the water grew larger, frowning.

"I know more about Sookie than you may think, vampire. I have watched over her since I first met her. Night _and_ day, which is more than you can say."

"And yet you had to come to me for an introduction to her!"

"She is my great-granddaughter!"

"She is my wife!"

Oh hell. The last thing I needed right now was some sort of supernatural Sookie-related pissing-contest.

"Excuse me! !"

They both stopped and looked at me.

"When you two have quite finished your alpha-male posturing, can I remind you that we are on the same side here? Eric, you need to remember you owe Niall big-time for the Were magic and the popsicle thing. You would not be here now if it weren't for him." Eric had the grace to look slightly ashamed. Niall looked smug, but I wasn't going to let him off easy either.

"Grandfather, you owe Eric an apology; you have absolutely no right to question his desire or ability to care for me. He and I were pledged again tonight – we're married. He is my man and I am his woman, and I'm sorry if you don't like it but that's the way it is."

Niall was startled at this attack. He looked from one to the other of us and we drew closer to each other. He seemed to consider. Then he made up his mind.

"Very well. Northman…Eric…I see I was wrong to doubt your commitment to my grand-daughter. I am sure you will care for her, and I am pleased for you, Sookie, that you have found such an honourable man. I am sorry to have missed the wedding, but I trust you will enjoy your honeymoon, and I will hope to see you when you return. And now I must go. Goodbye King Eric, Queen Sookie." There was a real note of satisfaction in his voice as he said this last sentence, and then the image faded and there was just the night and us.

We looked at each other. Eric's fangs had retracted.

"Honeymoon?" I said.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," said Eric. "We didn't have one the last time we were pledged." We turned and began to stroll back towards the main building, still hand in hand.

"Can we take time off now you're the king?"

"I think we can allow ourselves a few days. In fact, this may be the last opportunity we have for some time, so I think we should make the most of it before I have to throw myself into the business of running a kingdom. Where would you like to go?"

"Well…" I considered for a moment. "There is a little place I've heard of which is supposed to be real romantic."

"Name it."

"Well, I don't know its name, but it's about an hour's drive west of Uddevalla; there's a little cabin on a headland, looking out across the…" that's as far as I got before he swept me into his arms again. "Seriously, Sookie? You want to go back? Back to my home?"

"Yup. I have real fond memories of the last time I was there."

"I shall have them book tickets immediately. But before we go on our honeymoon, there is a little matter of the wedding night." His eyebrows waggled suggestively, and I giggled, which wasn't very queen-like, but hey, I was still getting used to the whole royalty thing.

In the reception area, there were quite a lot of staff hanging around, most of whom hurriedly backed up against the wall and bowed or curtseyed when Eric entered. They looked pretty scared, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I pointed out the popsicle machine and he laughed when I told him my reaction to Niall's suggestion that I should buy one. We took the elevator down this time, Eric dismissing the Were guard, and while we were in there I raised a subject that had been troubling me.

"Eric, you're not really going to torture Victor, are you?" He looked at me, puzzled.

"After what he did to us? To you? Of course I am. He is lucky I don't chain him outside and leave him for the sun!"

"I know, honey, it's just…I'm not real comfortable with torture. It just doesn't feel like us, somehow." I wasn't quite sure how I felt, because part of me _so_ wanted to see Victor suffer but another part of me felt that I didn't want to be like him; I wanted to be better than him.

"It may not feel like you, my treasure, but it feels absolutely right to me."

"Are you sure you want your new rule to begin with an act of vengeance, Eric?"

He looked at me very seriously.

"Sookie, in all the time I have known you, I have always accepted you for who you are. I have never asked you to change, and I would not. Can you not accept me in the same way?" Damn, this was harder than I'd thought it would be.

"I do, Eric, really I do. I love you, you know that."

"Then please do not ask me to be less than I am."

"I'm not, baby; I think I'm asking you to be _more_ than you are."

He leaned on the elevator Stop button, holding it where it was while he looked at me unblinkingly, processing what I'd just said. I didn't interrupt, almost holding my breath. At last he said, "What would _you _do to him?" I breathed out again. He was prepared to compromise.

"How about exiling him somewhere horrible, like the South Pole?"

He considered, then he took my hand and kissed it, releasing the button as he did so.

"Sookie, you are my queen in this, as in all things." I was so relieved.

"Thank you so much, honey. I'm really grateful."

His voice changed. "How grateful are you, Sookie?"

I giggled again, because this reminded me of a conversation we'd had years ago, when he'd been trying to seduce me into sleeping with him because he'd just given me his blood when I'd been badly injured. I said the same thing now as I'd said then.

"Eric, you should not want me to have sex with you just because I owe you." He picked up the cue, and replied as he had in Jackson, "Sookie, I don't care why you have sex with me, just as long as you do it."

I was just about to respond when the elevator doors slid open. Just like last time, when we'd also been interrupted, we looked at each other and sighed. When we exited the elevator Eric summoned a chamberlain and gave orders for our travel arrangements to be put in place at once. I loved to see him doing this sort of stuff. It just came so naturally to him, that everyone around him just fell over themselves to please him and do his bidding; he was made to be a king. I was only amazed he'd never done it before, and I asked him if he'd ever thought about it as we passed through the corridors towards my suite.

"I have thought about it, but most vampires become rulers through the violent death of the previous king or queen. I liked Sophie-Ann, and had no wish to overthrow her. She was my friend as well as my queen, and I was quite content with my little corner of Louisiana under her, but lately… if Felipe had been a good king I would have served him loyally, but he was not. He could not have been allowed to remain in power, even if he had never come between us, but once he became a danger to you his fate was sealed. I would not have rested until I knew the threat was removed. And now that I am king, I will have the resources of an entire kingdom with which to protect you. Are these your quarters?"

We had stopped at my suite door.

"Yes. I guess you could have the royal apartments if you want them, but I'm pretty certain they're bugged, and I know for a fact that my rooms aren't; Niall put a privacy charm on them."

"Then we will use your rooms for tonight." He came in and looked around him, instantly identifying the Swedish scene which was still running on my picture window projector. He was touched at the thought, and hugged me before heading for the shower at vampire speed. I could only be grateful; although he'd sluiced himself down in the ballroom, it had been a makeshift job, and he'd missed quite large areas.

While he was in the shower I slipped off my shoes and started taking off my necklace and ear-rings and putting them away. I'd have to remember to thank him for them. I decided to keep my bracelet on. I'd worn it for so long it was like a part of me now, along with my sunset watch.

Then I took my hair down and stepped out of my dress. I was just down to my bra and panties when the shower-room door opened and there was a naked vampire in front of me. As he looked at me his fangs fully extended, and so did another area of his anatomy. Jeez Louise.

"I have something to show you, my lover," he said in his sexiest voice. I swallowed hard and wondered what he could possibly have to show me that would interest me more than what I was looking at right now.

Slowly he turned his back to me and posed like a model, with his left hand high on the shower-room door frame and his right hand on his hip, his weight on his right leg and his left leg bent slightly, his head turned over his left shoulder smouldering sexily at me, his mouth open so I could see his fangs; I know bosoms are only supposed to heave in romance novels, but believe me my bosom was doing its very best to heave as I took in every inch of his fabulous body, and then I noticed it. The tattoo. Of course; he'd promised to have it made permanent, and it was still there on the left cheek of the most perfect butt on the planet, but I could see something else on the right cheek.

"What does that say, Eric." My voice sounded strangely hoarse.

"Come and see," he purred.

I made my way across the room and bent down to have a look. I had a hard time not sinking my teeth into the luscious curve of his ass, but I shut my eyes for a second and recovered a tiny hint of control. Then I opened them again. The tattoo now said **Sookie's **on the left cheek and on the right cheek it said **Forever. **I gulped. Then I reached out and stroked it gently. A shiver ran through him at my touch, and he turned and took me in his arms. His eyes were glowing and the expression on his face caught at my heart. I could feel his love pouring through the bond, and I returned it, every last drop of it, as he whispered,

"I am yours for ever, my little wife."

_The End._

**Well, that's all folks. Hope it was good for you. Please review :)**


	22. Trailer

**Dear All**

**Before you shoot me, please let me get my apology in first. I'm sorry, this is not an update to What Happened in Vegas – it's not even a sequel, so I've got you here under false pretences. I have started a new story, and one of my friends suggested that I should put a note at the end of this one to let anyone who had put WHIV on Story Alert know that I was trying again.**

**I was a bit worried that you'd all get really p****d off with me for getting your hopes up, and someone else told me it wasn't good protocol to post just a message without any new material, so I thought it might be the best thing if I include just the first few paragraphs of my new story to give you an idea of it, and so that at least you've got something to read.**

**If you like it, and want to read any more, it's called Immortal Beloved.**

_**Please**_** don't be too cross.**

**Sorry.**

**Hope you don't mind.**

**Sorry.**

Chapter 1

I'll never forget the first time I saw the king.

I was seven years old, and standing against the side wall in the great hall of the palace, holding real tight to my grandmother's hand, waiting to be ID'd.

I'd only recently come to live with my Gran, who was a housekeeper in the palace, after my parents were killed in a flash flood. Jason, my older brother, had gone to live with Gran's brother. Jason didn't mind; he and Uncle Bartlett had always got on very well, and Gran felt that a boy really needed a male role model, and her own husband was long dead. I had my own reasons for being glad it was Jason and not me who'd ended up going to live in Monroe. I missed Jason, but knew he'd be fine; Uncle Bartlett's tastes didn't run that way. For as long as I can remember, I'd known how my great-uncle felt about me, even though he'd never said anything out loud. He'd never had to. His mind just had a nasty feel to it.

The group of adults around me shifted slightly, and I tried to peep under the arm of the guy in front of me, but I couldn't see much at all. I was more curious than anything. Even though the vampires had taken over America years ago, I'd very rarely seen one. My parents had always been very careful to keep me in at night, and our house was well off the beaten track outside an obscure town in Louisiana, and there was no real reason for the vamps ever to come calling. Sure, I'd seen them on TV, but in the flesh was sure to be way more interesting. Since my arrival two days ago, I'd been on the lookout for one, but Gran hadn't let me leave the room once dusk had fallen.

Just then the man in front of me moved sideways, and left me a clear view. There was a young man from our group walking forward into the middle of the great hall and into the brilliance of a single spotlight. He looked nervous but he knew what to do (we'd all been briefed very carefully) and first he bowed and then turned slowly in a circle, letting the whole court get a good look at him. There was a faint sound as all the vamps inhaled, registering his scent, as the Head of Personnel read out his name and his position on staff. With their near-perfect memories, he was now logged in the mind of every vampire present as off-limits. I knew vaguely that this was why I'd come to live with Gran; she had explained that even though there were lots and lots of vampires in the palace, I would be much safer here than almost anywhere else, because the king had decreed that vampires who worked, lived or visited in the palace were not to feed on anyone in Domestic Services; it was disruptive to morale and completely unnecessary; there were plenty of willing donors. This was why, every Tuesday night, any additions or alterations to the servant population had to be brought to what they all referred to as ID parade, and it was my turn tonight.

The Head of Personnel gave the man in the spotlight a stainless steel bracelet with a blue enamel insert, which was another safety feature; again it meant 'don't touch', and any vampire who hadn't been present at the ID parade would still recognise and respect the bracelet. Wearing it was not compulsory, but anyone who didn't had only themselves to blame. Gran always wore hers, but the insert was yellow, indicating she was senior staff. The young man bowed again and moved out of the light and another man stepped forward and so it went on. And on. And on. I was soon bored. I checked the minds of the people round me, but nobody was thinking anything interesting; at least, not interesting to a seven-year-old. Then I looked to my left, and suddenly I was interested. **To Be Continued...**


End file.
